<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846</id><updated>2011-10-23T13:06:31.101-07:00</updated><category term='Sportster 883'/><category term='hot men'/><category term='hot women'/><category term='Montery County Harley Davidson'/><category term='motorcycle'/><category term='poem'/><category term='golf'/><category term='quirks'/><category term='Santa Maria'/><category term='Tennessee'/><category term='my first ride'/><category term='why harley?'/><category term='Dad'/><category term='Grand Ole Opry'/><category term='military'/><category term='Let me take you there'/><category term='rain'/><category term='harley davidson'/><category term='hot couples'/><category term='motorcycle madness'/><category term='Plain white t&apos;s'/><category term='montage'/><category term='hero'/><category term='Hollister'/><category term='obsessive compulsive disorder'/><title type='text'>B.B.'s Road Trip</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2602192456739420304</id><published>2011-04-11T19:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T19:49:12.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beyond Frustration</title><content type='html'>So I just looked at my last post...January 5th...What the hell? And that post, while very relevant to my life, had nothing to do with riding, in fact neither have the last 10 or 11. It has been 9 months since I've been on my bike. So that explains why no riding posts, it also explains why I'm a little absent from commenting on other blogs. Because although I love, love, love reading the experiences of those of you who I've come to count as friends...honestly it also pisses me off a little bit. I'm feeling angry, I'm feeling resentful, I'm feeling left out! Please don't take this the wrong way, it's just honest sharing between friends and obviously it isn't your fault that I am where I am. I work hard to support my family, and take care of what needs to be taken care of, and I'm happy that I'm able to do it. I am very happy in general with where I am in my life, but I just feel like when it comes to the bike, I can't get where I need to be. My bike hasn't been registered since July and every time I get "caught up" on everything else something else comes along that needs attending to. Every time I go into the garage I want to cry, my poor bike is just sitting there. And then I start feeling sorry for myself, and then I get pissed off at myself...how can I have this pity party? I have so much more than so many people, and I'm going to whine about what I can't do right now? I also could have put off my upcoming vacation so that I could get the bike registered, but I have made a vow to put people before things in my life, and I need this vacation, I need time with my husband, who has been working 60 hour work weeks ever since we got back from our honeymoon (mostly without pay) and I need to spend time with my son, and mostly I need to see my family. I can't believe how much I miss them, and I can't believe that I'm just now realizing this. I don't know what I'm going on about, just feeling pissy right now I guess. Bottom line is that I am truly blessed! The bike is safe and sound in the garage and not going anywhere, and when I am able I will get back on and make up for lost time, and in the meantime I am going to enjoy the people I have in my life, and I will even try to read all of your riding posts without shedding any tears and shorting out my keyboard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2602192456739420304?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2602192456739420304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2602192456739420304' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2602192456739420304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2602192456739420304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2011/04/beyond-frustration.html' title='Beyond Frustration'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6041373637103966391</id><published>2011-01-05T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T21:09:06.604-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're a Good Man Viking Dave!</title><content type='html'>Obviously I think my husband is pretty great, otherwise I wouldn't have married him. However, even if I look at him not as my husband, but only as a man, I think he is one of the most wonderful people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;Some of you are familiar with Dave's business situation. He owns a coffee shop and he gets all kinds in here. I'm not trying to scare anyone away, but you can usually find more than a handful of down and outers hanging around. There is the group who comes over from one of the recovery centers down the road, there are the old guys who stay at the mission at night, but have no where to go during the day, and then you have some people who never talk to anyone but themselves so you don't really know their story. Most business owners would chase these people out the door before they could step in it.&lt;br /&gt;Not my Dave, he not only gives these people a place of refuge, but he treats them like human beings, which a lot of people have forgotten they are. He talks to them and shows an interest in them and lets them know that he is here for them. He helps them on the computer if they need it, or anything else they may need help with.&lt;br /&gt;I know he grows impatient sometimes, I can see it in his face. And even when he confides to me that he is going to 'stop being so nice' I know that he can't. He is who he is supposed to be, he can't help it, it's his nature.&lt;br /&gt;He inspires me to be a better person, and I can't think of a single person other than Dave who I would want to be my son's role model of what a real man should be.&lt;br /&gt;What I want to share with Dave (and everyone) is this....your kindness can save people. That young man who I'm sure was interrupting your game tonight....he had no one else to talk to, nobody else in this world cares where he is right now or if he's safe, healthy, and fed. You gave him a precious gift that cost you nothing. I know you were getting a little annoyed, but the point is that he didn't know it, all he knew was that for a few minutes somebody was treating him the way a human being should be treated.&lt;br /&gt;He is just one example, I see you do this with people over and over everyday. It doesn't go unnoticed, and maybe, hopefully,  by your example others will decide to open themselves up a little bit more. We could really use more people like you in this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6041373637103966391?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6041373637103966391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6041373637103966391' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6041373637103966391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6041373637103966391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2011/01/youre-good-man-viking-dave.html' title='You&apos;re a Good Man Viking Dave!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6326128477045382403</id><published>2010-09-13T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T17:51:55.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lavapalooza</title><content type='html'>Even though I was in Lava dealing with family crisis, there were some positive aspects of my trip. I reconnected with some family who I've been out of contact with, I got to have an awesome road trip adventure with my boy, and I got to witness 'Lavapalooza'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is 'Lavapalooza' you ask? It is when over one thousand motorcycles take over the tiny little town of Lava Hot Springs Idaho. Okay...so nobody actually took over anything, but when you have that many bikes in a town that has a population of about 500, it kind of feels like it's being taken over. What a crappy day for my camera to stop working! But I know you all have great imaginations, so you can all picture it as you will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first started seeing bikes rolling into town on Friday afternoon I asked my aunt what was going on. She owns one of the towns two bars and I knew she would be able to give me the info I was looking for. She told me about the event. Just your run of the mill rally....bikes, bikers, bands, drinks, vendors....wait....no vendors, guess it's even better than your typical run of the mill rally. I immediately got on the phone with Dave and told him that if he and Willy got on the bikes right then they could make it by the next afternoon, but alas, they had just done their Arizona trip and couldn't make it. I started having major withdrawals for my bike. And my silly dad told anyone who would listen about how "his little girl rides a Harley", I was getting embarrassed, but it was cute to see my dad proud of me for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited to see all the goings on, but then I started thinking logically....I was staying at my Grams, in her apartment, above the other bar in town, the big party was going to be on Saturday night, I had to be up at the crack of dawn on Sunday and drive 16 hours to get home. Oh boy, this could be bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night I tried to go to bed around ten, I would much rather have been down at the bar partying with my 1000 new friends, but the safety of my child came first, I needed to make sure I would be in good shape to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is the breakdown for the rest of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:15- Loud, people yelling having a good time, laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:30- Arguing, escalating, can tell there is going to be a fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:35- Screaming, women hysterical, fight, guys yelling, ends pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:00- More arguing, different people, look out the window, two feet from my car, 8 guys, two different clubs, pushing, yelling, punching, getting closer to my car, one guy screaming,"I'll kill you if I have to, don't make me kill you", one guy on the ground, almost right on top of my car, guy down on the ground, another guy kicking him in the head, me thinking let them beat the shit out of each other, but what about my car, visions of my car getting a broken window and me running down in my p.j.'s yelling at the guys for breaking my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:10- Cops roll up, guys jump off each other, assure cops they're 'all good', cops yelling at them,  "why you guys have to act like a bunch of jackasses", some guy mumbling something I can't understand, cop smacks him up side the head and tells him to "shut the fuck up", guys hug each other, shake hands with the cops, everyone leaves, I get back in bed thinking 'this is the weirdest shit'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11:15- First bit of quiet for the night, interrupted by woman screaming, "oh my God, no! Don't do it", running, punching, again by my car, cops must be waiting around the corner, couple people cuffed, I go back to bed....I have got to get some sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this point I lost track of time, but it went this way until 4 a.m., laughter &amp;amp; fun, fighting &amp;amp; screaming, back and forth.......&lt;br /&gt;I have never experienced such madness in my life. Dave &amp;amp; I are planning on making it for 'Lavapalooza' next year..........anyone wanna go with?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6326128477045382403?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6326128477045382403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6326128477045382403' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6326128477045382403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6326128477045382403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/09/lavapalooza.html' title='Lavapalooza'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4982214093539767696</id><published>2010-07-18T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T12:15:21.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Grand!</title><content type='html'>Ahhh, life is so good right now. I have not been riding nearly as much as I would like to this summer, some of it is because I'm so busy, some of it is because I have neglected some things that needed to be taken care of, that's a long story and I'll post more on that later.&lt;br /&gt;But.....life is good! Minus not having Riley here, it has been an amazing summer. Dave's kids have spent time with us and that was just awesome! Spending time with Dave's kids has made me realize even more how much I love him...if that was possible.&lt;br /&gt;The wedding is close, and in spite of the changes of some plans, things are great on that front also. I am more excited than stressed, lately the lyrics for the song Anticipation keep popping into my head!&lt;br /&gt;We have mice babies...okay, that may not seem significant to most people, but I just think it's really cool. Watching life start out amazes me, even if most of them will become snake food...it's still pretty amazing.&lt;br /&gt;I tried yoga for the first time today, it kicked my ass.....but I feel awesome right now. I have a ton of energy, I'm typing like 100 words a minute right now, and the funny thing is...I don't know what's moving faster, my brain or my fingers. Okay, so maybe I'm just a little scattered too.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to check in with my friends, I hope you are all doing amazingly well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4982214093539767696?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4982214093539767696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4982214093539767696' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4982214093539767696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4982214093539767696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/07/life-is-grand.html' title='Life is Grand!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-9187096505794989913</id><published>2010-06-26T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T19:50:05.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Story About Plans</title><content type='html'>Rewind 11 years ago....I was pregnant with Riley. In my childbirth class the instructor told us we should write a birth plan. I am a huge planner, so I was more than happy to do this. I wrote a detailed plan about how my birthing experience would go.....the day came, and we might as well have flushed that plan down the toilet when my water broke. Every single thing that I wrote in my plan happened in exactly the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, present day...Planning a wedding. First let me say, that to me, the most important part of our wedding day will be the fact that I will be married to the most wonderful man in the world. With that said, I have put a lot of thought, energy and time into planning for things to be the way that we would like them to be for that one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are 42 days away from the wedding and in the last few weeks, my maid of honor has backed out, along with taking the flower girl (her daughter) with her, honeymoon plans have changed (due to the fact that Ry starts school earlier than usual this year), and now the cool porcelain flowers that I wanted for my bouquet are no longer available.&lt;br /&gt;Now, like I said before, the day will be perfect as long as Dave and I are married at the end of it. It's just frustrating that I spent all the time planning for all the icing on the cake just to have it melt before I could enjoy it. Yes, I am disappointed, yes I broke down and cried today, yes it sucks. But I am also keeping my perspective, and I know what matters. And seriously when I think about it, more is working out as planned than not.&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to marrying the man of my dreams and spending the day with people who I love and who love me back. It's going to be an amazing day, no matter what. But my new plan........no more planning!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-9187096505794989913?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/9187096505794989913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=9187096505794989913' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/9187096505794989913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/9187096505794989913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/06/little-story-about-plans.html' title='A Little Story About Plans'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5227771530013793534</id><published>2010-06-09T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-09T23:13:41.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone! I am still here, I'm still breathing, and yes, I'm still planning on marrying the man of my dreams. All is well, well almost well! I'm busy, busy, busy. And I'm dealing with drama in my life right now, but nobody is going to steal my joy....you hear that you control freak, want everyone to live their lives for you, stupid jerks!? I'm happy and I don't give a shit if you aren't.  When I go to sleep in 58 days, I am going to be married to a wonderful man who shows me more love each day than you will ever know in a lifetime!  So thanks for making me appreciate what I have even more than I already did! Go ahead and continue living your lives of lies!&lt;br /&gt;And to all of you who try to add to my joy rather than subtract from it....Thank you! You may not agree with everything that I do, or don't do, but I appreciate the unconditional love and forgiveness that you show me, I know a few people who could learn a lesson or two from you right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave....I am so thankful you are the man you are. I am so blessed to have you. I wouldn't want to be on this crazy adventure with anyone else. You are sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo  loved! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you for letting me be myself and for loving me no matter what, and for letting me use my own brain, and not treating me like a child who needs to be told when to wipe their own ass! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, whoa...I guess I needed to vent more than I thought that I did! Thanks for letting me!  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, yeah, and in case you missed it..................58 DAYS AND COUNTING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5227771530013793534?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5227771530013793534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5227771530013793534' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5227771530013793534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5227771530013793534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/06/hi.html' title='Hi'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2925246940654374437</id><published>2010-05-13T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T18:58:01.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Greetings From Tennessee</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Hi everyone! I just arrived in Tennessee tonight. I'm spending the next few days here to see my favorite niece, Nastassia, graduate from high school. If you only knew the week I had, and all the obstacles that tried to stand in my way of getting on that plane.....big sigh of relief, I made it! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Anyways, I will have stories and pics of my trip when I get home to share with all my friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Dave- Thanks so much for helping me get through the past week and helping me stay (somewhat) sane. Thanks for being such a great man that I can leave my son with you and know that he will be well taken care of! Miss you guys, but I promise to be a happy camper when I get home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;Nats- I'm so proud of you. You are an amazing young lady and I'm blessed to have you in my life!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#003300;"&gt;CONGRATULATIONS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2925246940654374437?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2925246940654374437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2925246940654374437' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2925246940654374437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2925246940654374437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/05/greetings-from-tennessee.html' title='Greetings From Tennessee'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5670948893411602789</id><published>2010-05-09T14:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-09T14:50:51.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>A very happy Mother's Day to all the wonderful mothers I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Riley for making being a mother such an amazing experience. You make being a mom the best thing in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Dave for supporting and loving us, and for helping me get through the tough times of motherhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you also to my ex for recognizing that even though I wasn't a good wife to you, that I'm a good mother to our son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you mom, as I've gotten older I realize that you did the best that you knew how.  I realize now how hard it can be sometimes, and I forgive you for any hurt you may have caused.  Thank you for teaching me to be forgiving, and for forgiving me as well for the hurt that I may have caused you.  I really do love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5670948893411602789?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5670948893411602789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5670948893411602789' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5670948893411602789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5670948893411602789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7895230655139356321</id><published>2010-05-06T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T09:47:19.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE</title><content type='html'>Just a quick Happy Birthday to the love of my life. I hope you have a great day. I look forward to spending many more birthdays with you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7895230655139356321?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7895230655139356321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7895230655139356321' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7895230655139356321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7895230655139356321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-birthday-to-my-love.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVE'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4993651040348132928</id><published>2010-05-04T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T10:24:18.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Generation Beer Pong</title><content type='html'>A bunch of my co-workers were trying to plan a social outing where we could all relax and enjoy ourselves and get to know each other outside of work.  I put a lot of thought into whether or not I would go.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, I'm their boss, and I've learned from experience that when you're the boss it's best not to get too chummy with the employees. Second of all, I work with mostly twenty somethings, and I haven't been twenty-something for awhile now. Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with my age or my ability to have a good time, I just get annoyed sometimes with people who have not had enough experience to know when to say enough. Not to say that you always get that with age.&lt;br /&gt;Well, in the end I decided that I should go. They planned it for Monday night since we're closed on Monday nights and nobody would be excluded because of work.  I figured a Monday night outing would be pretty mellow.&lt;br /&gt;I arranged for the kid to stay with friends, and told Dave to clear his schedule, we're going out.  We don't go out a lot just for the sake of going out. We go out for our rides, and occasional social obligations with friends, but just to go out to a bar...not so much anymore.  We like sitting at home snuggling on the couch and watching T.V.  Does that make us old? I don't think so, I just think that means we enjoy each others company and we love the time that we have when we don't have to share each other with anyone else.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I digress. As we were getting ready I told Dave not to be surprised because we would be the oldest people there. He just kind of laughed.  Then he informed me that if we were supposed to be there at 8, we shouldn't show up until 8:30. That made me laugh, because my sweetie has no concept of time anyway.&lt;br /&gt;We had a surprisingly good time. We played pool, talked, drank, all the usual. Then somebody mentioned Beer Pong. I've never played so I thought I'd give it a try. Dave was my partner and since he was driving I had to drink the majority of our losses. We did pretty good for being the old folks who had never played before. We won our first game and then took on the winners of the table next to us, we lost that one.&lt;br /&gt;At one point one of the girls was saying how she couldn't believe that we had never played before. I told her that we didn't have Beer Pong when we were in our twenties. We played quarters and Up The River and made beer bongs. The look on her face reminded me of my kids' face when I told him that I didn't own a computer until I was twenty.&lt;br /&gt;In the end I had a good time and I think it was good that I got to show my co-workers that I am more than an ogre who tells them what to do everyday.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry if this is long and pointless.....a few mixed drinks, two rounds of Beer Pong, and only a few hours of sleep....It's not as easy as it used to be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4993651040348132928?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4993651040348132928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4993651040348132928' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4993651040348132928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4993651040348132928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/05/generation-beer-pong.html' title='Generation Beer Pong'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-8186621018081376852</id><published>2010-05-01T13:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-01T13:53:04.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not a Good Candidate for Carrying a Weapon</title><content type='html'>I've thought about this in the past, and yesterday it was thrown in my face. I believe everyone has the right to keep and bear arms, but I also think for some of us we need to realize it's not a good idea for us to carry, especially when driving a car or riding a motorcycle.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was on my bike enjoying my ride home from work. I was headed down Central Avenue and came to a part of the road where I am always super aware of the side streets and the fools who come ripping out of them without even looking. Sure enough, here comes a maroon minivan driven by a drunk, dumb, blind, (or all three) man heading right towards me. I quickly maneuvered my way out of danger. I stayed calm, this jerk wasn't going to ruin my day. I just said a quick prayer of thanks and shook my head.&lt;br /&gt;Well the jerk had other plans, he must have been hell bent on trying to ruin it for me. As we pull up to a 4-way stop, he zooms up as close as possible to my backside before pulling into the lane next to me to turn left. Initially I thought "Whatever dude!" Then he made what could have been a fatal mistake.......he flipped me off, not once, but twice.&lt;br /&gt;I lost it! Here is what I remember and could make out of the conversation that took place at the stop sign. I apologize in advance for the language you are about to read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Are you fucking kidding me you stupid jackass!? You almost hit me, and you're going to flip me the bird! What the fuck, are you on drugs you stupid mother fucker?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: Blah, Blah, Blah, dumb bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Fuck you stupid cocksucker mother fucker, you could have killed me, what the fuck is your problem, pull your head out of your ass! Where the fuck do you get off being pissed off at me when you're the stupid dickhead who doesn't know how to drive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: Just go dumb bitch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Fuck you, I'm not moving until you do, I'm going to follow your stupid ass home to make sure you don't kill somebody on the way!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Him: Just go!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Fuck you, I'm not in your fucking way, you go dumb fuck, I'll sit here all fucking day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now people are lining up behind us, and normally I'm pretty considerate of other people, but at this moment in time, all I cared about was not backing down from this jerk. Is that smart, probably not. But I just kept thinking how I wished he would get out of his vehicle and approach me, and I had thoughts of me ripping off my helmet and beating him repeatedly in the head and face with it. Okay, now imagine if I had a gun with me, would I actually have shot the dude......hmmmm, you just never know do you. Would I have provoked him to the point where he did come after me, and I would be left with no alternative? That's kind of scary for me to think about. Sometimes you need to stand up for yourself and your survival, but sometimes you need to know when to back down for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;In the end I'm just glad that I made it home to kiss my boys, and that my life didn't end because of his stupidity....or my own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-8186621018081376852?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/8186621018081376852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=8186621018081376852' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8186621018081376852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8186621018081376852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/05/im-not-good-candidate-for-carrying.html' title='I&apos;m Not a Good Candidate for Carrying a Weapon'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6727663086255100764</id><published>2010-04-29T10:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T10:21:34.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Days and Counting</title><content type='html'>Some things have really gone by the wayside here lately. I haven't done a riding post for awhile, I haven't ranted about the restaurant, crap, what have I been doing?&lt;br /&gt;Well, a lot of wedding planning is what I've been doing. We don't have Internet at the house right now, so I have to do everything at the coffee shop when I have time.&lt;br /&gt;The planning is going really well. Most everything is in place and I'm just really happy. I've been talking to a lot of other people who are also planning their weddings, and they all keep talking about how stressful it is. I'm not stressed. Maybe it's because this time around I'm doing things that way I want them to be done.&lt;br /&gt;Of course I want everyone who is at my wedding to have a good time, but in the end it's about what Dave and I want and that's the way it's going to be. And if anything goes wrong....who cares? In 100 days I will be marrying the man of my dreams, who also thankfully is the man of my reality.&lt;br /&gt;Dave keeps asking, "What are you going to have to look forward to after the wedding?"&lt;br /&gt;My response, "The rest of my life with you my love!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6727663086255100764?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6727663086255100764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6727663086255100764' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6727663086255100764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6727663086255100764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/04/100-days-and-counting.html' title='100 Days and Counting'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1084346172521439749</id><published>2010-04-22T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T10:22:22.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To The Jack Ass Who Hit My Car</title><content type='html'>I found out that you hit my car when my man went to pick my son up from school. I really wish you would have left a note, I would have liked to thank you in person for the cute red pinstripe that I now have...oh yeah and the nice dent in the door.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure considering where my car was parked that it would have been really difficult for you to figure out where I was working and come in to give me a heads up. But hey, who doesn't love a surprise right.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm sure that you must not have had a pen or paper handy to leave a note on my windshield, but maybe you should consider carrying one from now on so the next time you hit a car you will be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe you just didn't know what to say, in that case here are some examples you could use next time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sorry I hit your car, I'm a drunk and after I hit it I couldn't stumble out of the car to do anything"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was on my way to take my wife to the hospital to deliver triplets, I was afraid I didn't have enough time to make it. I intended on coming back after the delivery, but hey, I have triplets now, I'm really busy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm illegal, I have no license or insurance, in fact the car I'm driving is stolen, I hope you understand."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm an inconsiderate asshole who doesn't know how to drive, or read or write. Besides, why would I care about the fact that I hit someones car who I don't even know. My car is a piece of shit anyway, you can't tell one dent from the other. Deal with it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1084346172521439749?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1084346172521439749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1084346172521439749' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1084346172521439749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1084346172521439749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/04/to-jack-ass-who-hit-my-car.html' title='To The Jack Ass Who Hit My Car'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7276352610373265263</id><published>2010-04-06T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T09:39:15.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Isn't Something I Usually Do</title><content type='html'>I wouldn't normally use my blog as a forum to promote school fundraisers, but here's the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year for the past who knows how long, the elementary schools in our area have sent the sixth grade classes to a really amazing science camp in the Santa Cruz mountains. In past years the students would start some individual fundraisers in fifth grade to use towards the camp, and then their parents would pay the difference. Well this year, due to the state of the economy, many parents are not able to commit to paying to send their kids to camp. The school has decided that if the students are not able to collectively earn enough money for every student to go, then none of them will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is really disappointing, as many of the students have looked forward to this since kindergarten. We are all trying to do our part to make sure that all of the kids are able to enjoy this amazing opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their current fundraiser is Great American Opportunities. If you would like to check out the products that are offered, you can &lt;a href="http://gaschoolstore.com/Store.aspx?ur=9"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt;, and use Id# 225UCF6 if you are interested in ordering anything. No pressure my friends, just wanted to see what I could do for the school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7276352610373265263?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7276352610373265263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7276352610373265263' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7276352610373265263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7276352610373265263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-isnt-something-i-usually-do.html' title='This Isn&apos;t Something I Usually Do'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3690245211228426732</id><published>2010-04-01T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T17:16:17.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Recharging the Battery</title><content type='html'>I have been extremely busy lately. Wedding planning, working, taking care of my child, taking care of my man. When I had time to ride, it was pouring down rain. When the weather was good...no time. So no surprise when I went to start my bike the other day to ride to work and the battery was dead.&lt;br /&gt;I was really looking forward to that little ride to work, it would've only been a five minute ride, but hey, five minutes is more than no minutes, right?&lt;br /&gt;So Dave got home that night and promptly hooked my baby up to the charger. She was getting a good charge, so thankfully I would be able to ride on Saturday. I had a day with time, and beautiful weather.&lt;br /&gt;After putting 140 miles on my girl Saturday her battery is good and charged, and you know what? So is mine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  128 days and counting.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3690245211228426732?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3690245211228426732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3690245211228426732' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3690245211228426732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3690245211228426732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/04/recharging-battery.html' title='Recharging the Battery'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-115366574152940777</id><published>2010-03-14T12:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T12:09:29.110-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Restaurant Rant of the Week</title><content type='html'>I love kids, I love it when people bring their kids into my restaurant to eat. What I don't love is when people let their kids run around like it's their own personal playground.&lt;br /&gt;Please, please, please, don't let your kids run around in restaurants. First of all, it is really rude to other people who are out trying to have a good time, and don't necessarily think it's cute when 'little Susie' is running into their chair and making them spill their drink in their lap.&lt;br /&gt;But mostly, it's dangerous. Your children could be seriously hurt by spilt soup, hot food, or just being run over by a server on their way to a table. I would really hate to see your child with a scalded face because you couldn't keep them at the table.&lt;br /&gt;If you want to go somewhere where you can eat and the kids can run....go on a picnic at a local park, or to a McDonald's that has a play yard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-115366574152940777?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/115366574152940777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=115366574152940777' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/115366574152940777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/115366574152940777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/03/restaurant-rant-of-week.html' title='Restaurant Rant of the Week'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6926810826534237491</id><published>2010-03-12T09:36:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T09:36:16.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Do Something Big - with Shaq</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI2ODQxNTMzNjcwNyZwdD*xMjY4NDE1MzY5NjIzJnA9MTIwNzQxJmQ9TFFBNlFqMjJLS3AydDNfMyZuPWJsb2dnZXImZz*y/Jm89YTg1MmVlOTA3OGFjNDI2YTgzMTAxMTdjYjk5MDNjYTAmb2Y9MA==.gif" /&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" id="playerLoader" width="160" height="250" codebase="http://fpdownload.macromedia.com/get/flashplayer/current/swflash.cab"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://farm.sproutbuilder.com/load/LQA6Qj22KKp2t3_3.swf" /&gt;&lt;param name="quality" value="best" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always" /&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent" /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://farm.sproutbuilder.com/load/LQA6Qj22KKp2t3_3.swf" width="160" height="250" name="playerLoader" align="middle" wmode="transparent" play="true" loop="false" quality="best" allowScriptAccess="always" allowFullScreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6926810826534237491?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6926810826534237491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6926810826534237491' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6926810826534237491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6926810826534237491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/03/do-something-big-with-shaq.html' title='Do Something Big - with Shaq'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7124201335158250413</id><published>2010-03-11T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T14:24:46.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, Seriously...What Next?</title><content type='html'>Sunday night we picked the kid up from his dad. He gets out of his dad's truck with a huge grin on his face and holding an empty sprite case...well, almost empty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mom, I caught a new pet!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who don't know, we already have a snake named Rex, and two mice, named Pardon and Ralph 2.0.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I look into the box, and there he is, or she, who knows. A huge toad! My first thought was how cool his/her eyes are. My second thought....he wants to keep this thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He then tells me that he caught him/her all by himself, he's beaming with pride. I asked him why he didn't keep him at his dad's house since that's where he caught him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, (step mom) said there is NO WAY this THING is going in her house. And dad said since we practically have a zoo already that you'd probably let me keep him." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm, thanks (ex)! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, long story short, we have a new pet...Meet Koopa, our Western Toad.  I figured since I was taking pics of him/her, I would share pics of all of our 'zoo' animals. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpZb6WYMI/AAAAAAAAAd4/hfwTG5ZfKpk/s1600-h/DSC03555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501109991465154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpZb6WYMI/AAAAAAAAAd4/hfwTG5ZfKpk/s200/DSC03555.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501307459357010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpk7iXSVI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Z2NYKe3UmxI/s200/DSC03557.JPG" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lp6rCITbI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/2uIrknB-sis/s1600-h/DSC03538.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501680986312114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lp6rCITbI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/2uIrknB-sis/s200/DSC03538.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501807828819154" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lqCDjvXNI/AAAAAAAAAeY/yLD2gbxiq9k/s200/DSC03542.JPG" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lqLVBhmbI/AAAAAAAAAeg/AtKIHff2nOU/s1600-h/DSC03558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501967135971762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lqLVBhmbI/AAAAAAAAAeg/AtKIHff2nOU/s200/DSC03558.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpxzoZr4I/AAAAAAAAAeI/-OsSEMGViws/s1600-h/DSC03467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447501528675495810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpxzoZr4I/AAAAAAAAAeI/-OsSEMGViws/s200/DSC03467.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7124201335158250413?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7124201335158250413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7124201335158250413' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7124201335158250413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7124201335158250413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/03/okay-seriouslywhat-next.html' title='Okay, Seriously...What Next?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/S5lpZb6WYMI/AAAAAAAAAd4/hfwTG5ZfKpk/s72-c/DSC03555.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-946488877790850848</id><published>2010-03-06T11:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T11:30:35.482-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restuarant Rant of the Week</title><content type='html'>Food allergies, ugh! Okay, first of all let me say, if you do have food allergies I do empathize. I know what it's like to have to restrict your diet for health reasons, and when you love food, that really sucks. But here are my issues with food allergies:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't really have an allergy, don't say you do. I have noticed people who say that they are allergic to something just because they don't like it and they figure if they say they're allergic then we will be sure not to put it in/on whatever they are ordering.  First off, it's a stupid thing to lie about, and second, it kinda screws the people who do actually have allergies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you do have a food allergy, it is ultimately your responsibility to know what you can and can't eat. I can tell you the ingredients of the food on our menu, and if I don't know if something contains a certain ingredient, I am happy to ask the chef to make sure. But.....don't just tell me that you have a gluten allergy and expect me to know all the things that you must avoid. I am not a doctor, or a nutritionist. Your restricted diet is your responsibility, I'm happy to help you out where I can, but come on people!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-946488877790850848?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/946488877790850848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=946488877790850848' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/946488877790850848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/946488877790850848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/03/restuarant-rant-of-week.html' title='Restuarant Rant of the Week'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3138046330599186806</id><published>2010-02-23T09:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T10:06:22.503-08:00</updated><title type='text'>B.B. Has a New Meaning</title><content type='html'>Over the years my nickname, B.B. has stood for many things. But it stands for something else now.&lt;br /&gt;B.B. stands for Bride to Be.&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's right folks, Dave and I are going to tie the noose, err....I mean knot. The Saturday after Thanksgiving Dave asked me to marry him , and I've been dying to share the news with all of you, but there were some people who needed to be told first and we wanted to make sure that they were told in person and didn't read about it on the Internet.&lt;br /&gt;We are very excited! Most of you know that I have been waiting for this, and I always knew it was coming, but I can be very impatient at times. Even though I have felt tortured at times waiting, I'm happy that Dave waited until the time was right to ask me.&lt;br /&gt;The details of the proposal will remain private and intimate, but I can tell you that it was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;We will be getting married August 7th and are planning a possible honeymoon trip to Sturgis. I will keep you all posted on the plans, 165 days and counting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3138046330599186806?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3138046330599186806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3138046330599186806' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3138046330599186806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3138046330599186806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/bb-has-new-meaning.html' title='B.B. Has a New Meaning'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4072710727931015892</id><published>2010-02-20T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T11:26:42.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restuarant Rant of The Week</title><content type='html'>I approach a table, ask if they are ready to order or if they need more time. One, or sometimes all of the people at the table say. "We're ready to order."&lt;br /&gt;Okay, ten seconds, okay, twenty seconds, "Okay, well let me give you all a little more time to make your decisions."&lt;br /&gt;"No, we're ready now."&lt;br /&gt;Okay, ten seconds, okay, twenty seconds, okay, now I'm starting to stare off into space or looking around at my other tables who might be waiting for me to get them something while you're monopolizing my time while you read the menu.&lt;br /&gt;If you aren't ready, say you aren't ready. I will come back. Not only is it completely uncomfortable for me to stand over you at your table in silence, but it is also rude to all the other guests in the restaurant who are also paying for my time and attention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4072710727931015892?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4072710727931015892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4072710727931015892' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4072710727931015892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4072710727931015892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/restuarant-rant-of-week.html' title='Restuarant Rant of The Week'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5603982873904005219</id><published>2010-02-17T09:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T09:28:56.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Does Riding Your Own Make You a Better Passenger</title><content type='html'>When I first started riding on the back of Dave's bike he always told me what a good passenger I was. He said he usually forgot I was on the back, which sometimes was apparent by the way he rode. So when I first started learning to ride my own I wondered about how that would affect me as a passenger. At first I thought it was making me a better passenger. I started understanding more why he did some of the things he did. I started to anticipate certain situations, and it especially helped when riding in a group because I became aware of possible hazards that I could point out to riders behind us.&lt;br /&gt;Now I've been riding my own for about a year and a half, and have only ridden on back with Dave a handful of times. Saturday we went out for a short and sweet ride with a couple who we have recently become friends with, thanks to the friendship of our two boys. I wasn't feeling very good, but I still wanted to go out, so I decided I would ride with Dave. I started realizing that maybe riding my own didn't make me such a good passenger. Once you are able to be in control of something, it's kind of hard to give that up. I found myself trying to help Dave control the bike, which I'm sure made things difficult for him. I kept telling myself to relax and go with it, just like I had done for so long all those times I had ridden with him, but it was really hard.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if anyone else has this problem, or if it's just another area in my life where I'm over thinking things. But in my conclusion, in my case, I feel like riding my own has made me a worse passenger. With that being said, I guess it's just something I'll have to deal with on those rare occasions when I ride on the back, and remember that being in control is one of the things I love about riding my own. If I have to choose between being a good passenger and a good operator, I think the obvious choice is being a good operator.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5603982873904005219?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5603982873904005219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5603982873904005219' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5603982873904005219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5603982873904005219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/does-riding-your-own-make-you-better.html' title='Does Riding Your Own Make You a Better Passenger'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-513473891007929309</id><published>2010-02-14T10:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T10:33:42.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restaurant Rant of the Week</title><content type='html'>Okay, I'm busy as hell so this will be short and sweet......Seems like common sense to me, but I hear it a lot so I guess maybe it isn't.&lt;br /&gt;"I got here before them, why did they get their food first?"&lt;br /&gt;Duh.....things don't always take the same amount of time to cook. If you ordered a 1/2 lb. burger well done, and the other table ordered a salad, what do you think takes longer to prepare?&lt;br /&gt;Told ya...short and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all have a great V-Day....hope even more that this isn't the only day of the year that you do nice things for the people you love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-513473891007929309?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/513473891007929309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=513473891007929309' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/513473891007929309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/513473891007929309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/restaurant-r.html' title='Restaurant Rant of the Week'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5114038894052093773</id><published>2010-02-06T10:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T10:43:39.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Restaurant Rant of the Week</title><content type='html'>I have decided to start a weekly series here on my blog. It is not motorcycle related, but it is something that is a huge part of my life, so as far as I'm concerned it's relevant.&lt;br /&gt;I work in a restaurant and I love to go to restaurants, and one thing I've noticed is that we are all very quick to judge and rate service....but have you ever stopped for a minute to judge yourself as a guest? No? Well, then let me help you. Please consider this a Free Public Service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my first issue I will discuss seating in a restaurant. When you go into an establishment that is not "seat yourself", there is a reason it isn't. So unless you have an actual physical impairment that prevents you from sitting wherever the hostess/server is trying to seat you.......SHUT UP and SIT DOWN. There are reasons why we seat the restaurant the way that we do. It is not random. We have sections and table numbers and each server is assigned a section. We rotate tables for one to make it fair, but also so none of the servers get too many tables at once and end up getting overwhelmed.&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you insist, of course we will seat you wherever you like....you are the boss after all. But when that happens one of two things can come next. Either the server whose turn it was supposed to be will take you, even though you are not in their section, or the server whose section you are in will take you, even though it wasn't their turn.&lt;br /&gt;Scenario one...A server takes a table out of their section- There is a very good likelihood that you will be forgotten. This isn't on purpose, but if they are busy in their section it is very easy to overlook a table that they were never supposed to have in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;Scenario two...Your server probably got double, or triple sat, so they aren't going to get to you as fast as the other server would have. Your order will most likely come up right about the same time as the other table/s and may sit in the window for a minute while the other food is run first.  You most likely won't get as good of service as you would have, because your server is getting overwhelmed with too many tables, especially if you aren't the only one with "particular seating desires".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for this issue, I look forward to sharing more restaurant knowledge with all of you, and I can already tell that this is going to be very therapeutic for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5114038894052093773?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5114038894052093773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5114038894052093773' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5114038894052093773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5114038894052093773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/restaurant-rant-of-week.html' title='Restaurant Rant of the Week'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4839919481010841094</id><published>2010-02-02T07:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T07:54:57.155-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Different Versions....   Two Different Morals</title><content type='html'>I remember Joker posting something similar, or maybe it was exactly the same, but I got this in an email this morning and thought I'd throw it up here. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OLD VERSION&lt;br /&gt;The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.. Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed. The grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold.&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY: Be responsible for yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MODERN VERSION&lt;br /&gt;The ant works hard in the withering heat and the rain all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter. The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.&lt;br /&gt;Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while he is cold and starving. CBS, NBC , PBS, CNN, and ABC show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. America is stunned by the sharp contrast. How can this be, that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?&lt;br /&gt;Kermit the Frog appears on Oprah with the grasshopper and everybody cries when they sing, 'It's Not Easy Being Green.' ACORN stages a demonstration in front of the ant's house where the news stations film the group singing, “We shall overcome.” Then Rev. Jeremiah Wright has the group kneel down to pray to God for the grasshopper's  sake.  &lt;br /&gt;President Obama condemns the ant and blames President Bush, President Reagan, Christopher Columbus, and the Pope for the grasshopper's plight. Nancy Pelosi &amp;amp; Harry Reid  exclaim in an interview with Larry King that the ant has gotten rich off the back of the grasshopper, and both call for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his fair share. Finally, the EEOC drafts the Economic Equity &amp;amp; Anti-Grasshopper Act retroactive to the beginning of the summer. The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number of green bugs and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government Green Czar and given to the grasshopper.&lt;br /&gt;The story ends as we see the grasshopper and his free-loading friends finishing up the last bits of the  ant’s food while the government house he is in, which, as you recall, just happens to be the  ant's old house, crumbles around them because the grasshopper doesn't maintain it. The  ant has disappeared in the snow, never to be seen again. The grasshopper is found dead in a drug related incident, and the house, now abandoned, is taken over by a gang of spiders who terrorize the ramshackle, once prosperous and once peaceful, neighborhood..The entire Nation collapses bringing the rest of the free world with it.&lt;br /&gt;MORAL OF THE STORY:  Be careful how you vote in 2010.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4839919481010841094?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4839919481010841094/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4839919481010841094' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4839919481010841094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4839919481010841094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/02/two-different-versions-two-different.html' title='Two Different Versions....   Two Different Morals'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1490851504352845410</id><published>2010-01-12T10:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T10:27:00.525-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In a Rut?</title><content type='html'>I was thinking for awhile that I've been in a rut, but then this morning I realized it isn't a rut....it's a big friggin' ditch! I know I haven't posted much, and I haven't commented on very many of your posts lately, but I am here, and I have been reading most of the blogs, but just haven't had much to add.&lt;br /&gt;I read this post that &lt;a href="http://annnelson.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-recap.html"&gt;Ann&lt;/a&gt; put up at the beginning of the year and decided to use this as a post for myself, cause I have nothing else to say. :) Thanks Ann for giving me some inspiration, even if I'm not being original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://annnelson.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-recap.html"&gt;The 2009 Recap&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.What did you do in 2009 that you’ve never done before? I went to AZ, and I rode without a helmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I don't make resolutions, but I met most of my goals, yes I will make new goals for 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Did anyone close to you give birth? At least 5 people I can think of just off the top of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Did anyone close to you die? Nobody really close, thankfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What countries did you visit? Ummm, none.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009? A wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. What dates from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? June, Fathers day weekend. We went to AZ and met Ann, Big D, Paul and Linda, had an amazing time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Getting through a busy Christmas season at work without going completely insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What was your biggest failure? Hmmm.... not going to go get my motorcycle endorsement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Ulcers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. What was the best thing you bought? I can't think of anything great I bought this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Whose behavior merited celebration? Riley, people are always telling me what a great kid he is, and it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?  Tiger Woods, money doesn't buy happiness, it just gives you more opportunities to screw up and make it public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Where did most of your money go? Rent, and the kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. What did you get really excited about? Going to AZ, and the Sat. after Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. What song will always remind you of 2009? These friends of mine. I can't remember off the top of my head who sings it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Compared to this time last year, are you: - happier or sadder? Happier.- thinner or fatter? Probably about the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Riding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. How did you spend Christmas? Mellow morning with Dave and the kid, finally watched the last episode of SOA, then a great dinner at Wolf's house with his family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Did you fall in love in 2009? Everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. What was your favorite TV program? Sons of Anarchy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? Nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. What was the best book you read? The Lovely Bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. What was your greatest musical discovery?  That Dave can play the guitar....kind of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. What did you want and get? Love and happiness...have both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What did you want and not get? A big fat bailout check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What was your favorite film of this year? The Proposal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? Had the swine flu...took care of the kid, who also had the swine flu. Don't you know it's rude to ask a woman her age...35&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Going to Sturgis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. What kept you sane? The kid, Dave, and Patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Who did you miss? My niece Nastassia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. Who was the best new person you met? Wow, that's a hard one...meet lots of great people....Ann, Big D., MQ, Paul, Linda....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.  Hmmm.....I don't know, I'm drawing a blank.... "I don't want a pickle, just wanna ride my motorcycle."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1490851504352845410?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1490851504352845410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1490851504352845410' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1490851504352845410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1490851504352845410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-rut.html' title='In a Rut?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5660685629737523798</id><published>2009-12-16T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T10:15:49.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tale of Two Mice</title><content type='html'>Okay, this is a fluff piece, but it's something I wanted to share.&lt;br /&gt;Most of you know that I have a snake named Rex. The other night I went to buy two mice to feed Rex. I put the first mouse in and Rex ate him as normal. I put the second mouse in and Rex didn't seem at all interested in him. After a minute they just started sniffing each other and then that was it. For whatever reason Rex was giving this particular mouse a pardon.&lt;br /&gt;What to do now. I couldn't just kill the poor little mouse. It's one thing to let the snake eat him so he can survive, but it's another thing just to kill the poor little mouse for no reason. Should we let him go? I didn't feel good about the either, he was born in captivity, how would he survive out in the wild?&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I know some of you may not see my conundrum here, it would be pretty simple for most people, I guess, but I'm not most people. So....we now have a pet mouse named Pardon. And you know what? He is so cute, and very entertaining to watch. Dave and I sat for quite a while last night just watching him run around in his little wheel. He's so cool in fact, that this week I'm going to go and get him a friend.&lt;br /&gt;I will post pictures later for those who might be interested in seeing our little rodents. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5660685629737523798?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5660685629737523798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5660685629737523798' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5660685629737523798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5660685629737523798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/12/tale-of-two-mice.html' title='A Tale of Two Mice'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3170837152743354846</id><published>2009-12-11T17:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T17:47:42.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life is Good....Busy, but Good!</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone. I know I haven't posted much of anything important lately. Work is super busy right now with Christmas parties, and since I am in charge of them from start to finish, I have been working a lot. When I'm not working I'm just taking care of the kid, making sure he is at school, and on time, so I don't get put in jail....more on that in a future post.&lt;br /&gt;I do have some exciting things to post about, but they will have to wait until I have the time to devote to them that they deserve.&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone is enjoying this Merry Season and not stressing too much about all the crap that doesn't really matter. Enjoy your family and friends and remember that it's not about how much you can spend, but how much you love them!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3170837152743354846?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3170837152743354846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3170837152743354846' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3170837152743354846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3170837152743354846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/12/life-is-goodbusy-but-good.html' title='Life is Good....Busy, but Good!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1428772472480300258</id><published>2009-12-05T12:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T12:29:51.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, I'll Play!</title><content type='html'>Ann put up a post several days ago asking us all to play along...okay, what the hell! :)&lt;br /&gt;Leave a comment describing me using one word that starts with the 3rd letter of your name. Then repost this in your blog. Let's see what people come up with! And please.....be nice! ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1428772472480300258?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1428772472480300258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1428772472480300258' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1428772472480300258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1428772472480300258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/12/okay-ill-play.html' title='Okay, I&apos;ll Play!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-8291880417681539938</id><published>2009-10-26T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T10:12:13.087-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been Way Too Long Baby</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since I've had a decent ride. Ever since I re-did my permit several weeks ago, I have ridden around town, to and from work, just little jaunts, all good, but nothing great!&lt;br /&gt;I did have a couple of opportunities, like when we went to the corn maze a couple of weeks ago, but for some reason I just didn't. I can't really explain why, something just didn't feel right. I wanted to ride, but couldn't bring myself to. What's up with that? Maybe because I had been so sick I still didn't really feel like myself? Maybe because I was feeling pressure to ride, when one of the greatest things about riding is supposed to be releasing my pressure?&lt;br /&gt;All I knew was that it really had been too long. It was time, now I just had to find the time. But isn't it nice how sometimes time just finds you?&lt;br /&gt;Sunday I woke up early after being up way too late the night before. The sun was shining outside, it was a beautiful day, but I couldn't get my butt off the couch. I watched a movie with the kid, well he watched the movie while I drifted in and out of sleep. He had been invited over to a friends house for the afternoon so Dave suggested we get out for a ride. He wanted to ride over to Carmel to have lunch at this place he had been telling me about for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;So Dave took Riley over to his friends house while I got ready. By the time I was ready Dave had pulled Patience out of the garage and Willy D. and Carol were waiting outside.&lt;br /&gt;It felt good getting on the bike and knowing that I was going somewhere fun, not just to work.&lt;br /&gt;I was a little bit anxious because the road we were going to take is a bit curvy with some pretty good drop offs to the right side. I actually had never ridden that road on my own, just on the back with Dave. When we first started out on the road I thought to myself, "Well this isn't as bad as I remember." But then we really got into it, and I found myself talking out loud again. Telling myself to keep my head up, look where I wanted to go,  pay attention to the signs, all that good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;After awhile I relaxed and realized I had been on curvier roads than this and done just fine. Then I was able to really enjoy being out. I was happy, it had been too long. Why did I do that to myself?&lt;br /&gt;We had a great lunch at the Running Iron, it was just as good as Dave said it was. The only bad part about lunch was a lady sitting behind me downing glass after glass of wine and crying, seriously, crying about how horrible her life was and how nobody understood how good she was at taking care of her family. And how she was such an amazing person. Dave was trying to distract me, but for some reason I just wanted to turn around and punch her in the face. I don't know why it bothered me so bad, it just did.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch I called to check on the kid, his friends dad, who also rides, said he was fine and just go ride and have a good time, pick him up whenever. Cool!&lt;br /&gt;So we were off again, just riding around in the sun enjoying the day. I need to do this more. There is no guarantee how long I have to enjoy this, I need to enjoy it while I can. That's advice I always give to everyone else, but somehow I don't apply it to my own life.&lt;br /&gt;I'm working on making my life better right now, I'm going to stop procrastinating. I'm going to get stuff done. Wow, isn't it amazing what a ride can do!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-8291880417681539938?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/8291880417681539938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=8291880417681539938' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8291880417681539938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8291880417681539938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-been-way-too-long-baby.html' title='It&apos;s Been Way Too Long Baby'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1641160144206160008</id><published>2009-10-18T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T10:09:21.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking a lot lately about expectations that we have. Expectations for ourselves, for our lives, for those around us.&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking about how many of these expectations have set me up to be disappointed in myself, in my life, and in those around me.&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking maybe it would be easier if I didn't have any expectations, no disappointment, no feeling let down.&lt;br /&gt;But what would my life be without expectation? Sure, there would be no disappointment, or would there? But what kind of life would it be to just go without expectation. There is a difference between being able to shrug stuff off when it happens and just being totally indifferent. Indifference is a sad way to live, I've been there. I want to be able to feel the excitement when something goes exactly the way I expected it would, or the surprise when it goes better than I ever could have expected, I guess I even want to be able to feel the disappointment when it just doesn't work out. In the end I guess that's the only way I can truly appreciate the rest of it.&lt;br /&gt;When I really sit back and think about it, expectations have brought me far more joy than disappointment. So I guess I'll go about with my expectations and just work on being able to put things into perspective, things work out the way they are supposed to, whether we like it or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1641160144206160008?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1641160144206160008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1641160144206160008' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1641160144206160008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1641160144206160008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/10/expectations.html' title='Expectations'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5760455416403415091</id><published>2009-09-30T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T09:54:08.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How Old Are You....REALLY?</title><content type='html'>"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my grandmother's favorite saying. She will be 85 in less than two weeks, but you'd never know it. She has a little trouble getting around because of arthritis, but her mind is young and sharp. There are two things my grams does everyday, and has ever since I can remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Complete the daily crossword puzzle in the paper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Go to the bar to hang with her friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She seriously does this everyday, whether she feels like it or not. Now, my grams lives in a very small town, and I think she is the oldest resident there. Her friends range in age from teenagers to senior citizens. Everybody loves her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thinking a lot about getting older lately. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't think I'm "old" by any means. But we all have times in our lives where we take stock. We think about all the things we haven't accomplished that we had hoped to by whatever age. But this got me thinking about the things that I have accomplished that I never even thought about trying. Riding being the most obvious for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of weeks ago I put together a party at work. It was a 30 year high school reunion. It was funny to see how the people who showed up right on time were dressed very professionally and seemed rather stuffy. They all looked like they graduated 30 years ago, or more in some cases. Then about an hour after the party started a group of bikers come wandering in. Laughing, full of life, leathers and all. You could tell these guys enjoyed their lives. And they looked young, in fact some of them so young that I actually stopped them to make sure they were supposed to be at this 30 year reunion. They were, and it was a good thing, because I noticed how once they got there the stuffed shirts loosened up a bit. It was like they suddenly realized that just because they were the class of '79 graduates didn't mean they had to act like they were past all the fun.&lt;br /&gt;Doing something you love keeps you young. It can be anything that makes you happy, whatever it is don't let it go. Health, finances, or family can alter how you enjoy it, but no matter what find some way to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;So my friends....How old are you, REALLY?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5760455416403415091?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5760455416403415091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5760455416403415091' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5760455416403415091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5760455416403415091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/09/how-old-are-youreally.html' title='How Old Are You....REALLY?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2129630213273749761</id><published>2009-09-21T10:23:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T08:49:38.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Feeling Better Now</title><content type='html'>Man, the last few weeks I've been getting really cranky. (Shut up Dave)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My permit expired and stuff kept getting in the way of me and the DMV. There were a few days that I almost rode to work anyway. The rebel in me said, "Go ahead, it's not that far, you'll be fine." But then the responsible mom in me said, "This could be the day that something goes wrong. Think about the consequences of your actions. Do you really want to screw up and then never be able to ride again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I left my girl alone until I could get legal again. She was sad in the garage, especially when Dave would pull Tramp in after a nice little ride. I was sad and getting cranky. I hated even walking into the garage and seeing Patience sitting there with that sad little puppy dog headlight staring at me. Patience, mine was wearing thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the end of last week I was able to get into the DMV and make my world right again.  I was finally able to get out a bit this weekend. No epic rides, but enough to start boosting the mood meter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to get off my ass and take the ride part of the test so I don't have to deal with this crap again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2129630213273749761?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2129630213273749761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2129630213273749761' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2129630213273749761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2129630213273749761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-feeling-better-now.html' title='I&apos;m Feeling Better Now'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-492009749877982185</id><published>2009-09-08T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T17:15:47.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HELP!!!  I need BAIL!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Several days ago I got a phone call at work saying that there was a warrant out for my arrest, and on October 21st I am going to be arrested. My bail is set at $1,600. If any of you out there have some spare change to go to a good cause &lt;a href="https://www.joinmda.org/MyLockup/MyHomepage/tabid/102571/Participant/carr_rebekah/SID/5334421/Default.aspx"&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt; to find out more info!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-492009749877982185?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/492009749877982185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=492009749877982185' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/492009749877982185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/492009749877982185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/09/help-i-need-bail.html' title='HELP!!!  I need BAIL!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5300271648797898218</id><published>2009-08-15T11:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T12:54:48.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Want To Ride WHERE? To Look At WHAT?</title><content type='html'>When I was first presented with &lt;a href="http://mq01.blogspot.com/2009/08/mission.html"&gt;"The Mission"&lt;/a&gt; it sounded a lot like the needle in a haystack scenario, but once I learned all of the details it sounded more like an adventure that needed to be had.&lt;br /&gt;I felt honored to be allowed to participate in such a voyage. I opted for the title of "Pillion Queen" for the day. Seven hundred miles in one day is just a little out of my comfort zone right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So it was settled. Dave and I would accompany Ms. MQ01 on a journey for a dead tree. A dead tree that held sentimental significance for a man we consider a friend although we have never met. By the end of the day that same dead tree would hold significance for the new friendship that was formed on that day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Riding with MQ was hard! I say that in a good way. She rides hard, and I'm thankful I chose not to ride my own on that day. I look forward to someday being as skilled a rider as my new friend. I really admire her as a rider, and also as a woman. She is an independent woman, but she also understands the importance of having good people in her life. I consider the addition of MQ in my life a positive one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I think about my blogger friends who I've been fortunate enough to meet in person, I have to say that I've not been disappointed. So far I've met six of you and you have all been just as great in person as you appear on your blogs. I may not have wealth, but I have some pretty great friends thanks to this stupid computer, so I am a rich woman. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, I digress, here are some random pics from the day, ENJOY!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These horses came all the way across their coral just to say hi and check out Dave's bike! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 116px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370267922297842930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocGOPE87PI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/cNKc12uqm38/s200/DSC03284.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Richmond San Rafael Bridge&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370268507952015570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocGwUzyaNI/AAAAAAAAAcY/8UD1pARaH3M/s200/mq2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Getting close:&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370274530542434834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocMO4tPOhI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/et4Aka-IRAY/s200/DSC03306.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370269182135730402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocHXkVtgOI/AAAAAAAAAcg/xqixMDw3HE0/s200/mq3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;                                                    Does anyone know who this guy is?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIEyJ4v9I/AAAAAAAAAco/_0Z2bxFhpTE/s1600-h/DSC03321.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370269958938345426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIEyJ4v9I/AAAAAAAAAco/_0Z2bxFhpTE/s200/DSC03321.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIXpkFHUI/AAAAAAAAAcw/WOzGxFPImKA/s1600-h/DSC03322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370270283049803074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIXpkFHUI/AAAAAAAAAcw/WOzGxFPImKA/s200/DSC03322.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIEyJ4v9I/AAAAAAAAAco/_0Z2bxFhpTE/s1600-h/DSC03321.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIEyJ4v9I/AAAAAAAAAco/_0Z2bxFhpTE/s1600-h/DSC03321.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Especially for Ann &amp;amp; Linda: &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 112px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370270621508175682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocIrWa2B0I/AAAAAAAAAc4/FsEEf5hW_aY/s200/DSC03318.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Especially for Big D. and AHD:&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 112px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370271387360602898" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocJX7cSqxI/AAAAAAAAAdA/6JlQ1PISMNg/s200/DSC03320.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The destination:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370273974891489138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocLuivup3I/AAAAAAAAAdI/jd4FGT3LSSE/s200/DSC03370.jpg" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocNQTjuDPI/AAAAAAAAAdg/4irYWtTeaSM/s1600-h/DSC03385.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 112px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370275654441766130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocNQTjuDPI/AAAAAAAAAdg/4irYWtTeaSM/s200/DSC03385.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocM-XqSJyI/AAAAAAAAAdY/5wHkH-0VAi0/s1600-h/DSC03364.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370275346305394466" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocM-XqSJyI/AAAAAAAAAdY/5wHkH-0VAi0/s200/DSC03364.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370276360815089682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocN5bAPmBI/AAAAAAAAAdo/aRKh_et3rc8/s200/DSC03393.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dave's dead end road:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 112px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370277252546898418" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocOtU9rKfI/AAAAAAAAAdw/z2t50dQYPLs/s200/DSC03396.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5300271648797898218?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5300271648797898218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5300271648797898218' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5300271648797898218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5300271648797898218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/08/you-want-to-ride-where-to-look-at-what.html' title='You Want To Ride WHERE? To Look At WHAT?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SocGOPE87PI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/cNKc12uqm38/s72-c/DSC03284.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1141549430118903282</id><published>2009-08-08T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T06:00:00.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY NASTASSIA!</title><content type='html'>Today is my niece Nastassia's 17th birthday. I remember the day she was born like it was yesterday. It makes me feel old. She was born the summer I graduated from high school, and this year she is going to be a senior. Wow, time flies!&lt;br /&gt;Nats is such a wonderful young lady. She has gone through some stuff in her life that could have easily made her bitter and play the victim, but she has risen above and is working hard to make a wonderful life for herself. She is everything I would want if I had a daughter. She makes me proud to be her Aunt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HAPPY BIRTHDAY NATTY! I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1141549430118903282?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1141549430118903282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1141549430118903282' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1141549430118903282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1141549430118903282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/08/happy-birthday-nastassia.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY NASTASSIA!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-891529196892692031</id><published>2009-08-03T16:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T16:24:02.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need to get caught up!!!!</title><content type='html'>My parents were here visiting from Tennessee for a week, they just left yesterday, and I finally have time to look at my blog. I feel like I've missed a lot, so I will be spending this next week trying to catch up. Maybe by next week I'll have something decent to post!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-891529196892692031?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/891529196892692031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=891529196892692031' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/891529196892692031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/891529196892692031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-need-to-get-caught-up.html' title='I need to get caught up!!!!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2711592300223886700</id><published>2009-07-20T15:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T16:29:45.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's A Girl To Do?</title><content type='html'>Several days back Dave asked if he could take off with some of the guys for a few days to ride. I'm not the type of woman to tell Dave he can or cannot do something, that's what God gave us mothers for. Still I appreciate the fact that he cares enough to ask. &lt;br /&gt;We all experience times in our lives where we would like to do something, but can't for one reason or another. So my philosophy is that if an opportunity comes up and you can make it work, then you should go for it. So I told my sweetie, "Have fun, be safe, and call to check in a few times a day." And then he was gone.&lt;br /&gt;Then that left me with one burning question, What the hell was I going to do with myself? The kid is also gone for another week, so I would be completely on my own. I used to love solitude, but for some reason not so much any more. &lt;br /&gt;Saturday came around, and I REALLY wanted to go check out the cage fighters at the Harley Dealership. It's not really my thing, but it's something you don't do every weekend so I thought it would be cool. But......I have been super neglectful in my housecleaning/laundry/yard work/shopping/errands for weeks. Since my parents are coming out next week from Tennessee I figured I better put some time in to get some stuff done. &lt;br /&gt;I made a deal with myself: Saturday work, Sunday play. The first task for Saturday was errands. I decided to ride my bike to run all of my errands. I've ridden around town a bit by myself, mostly to and from work, but this would be the first time I was going to so many destinations. May not be a big deal to some, but a huge deal to me. I won't bore you with all the tedious errands I ran, but I can say that running errands has never been so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;Saturday afternoon was just cleaning and laundry and yard work. Willy D. stopped by to check on me. (What a friend!) I told him that I wanted to ride on Sunday so if he and Carol were planning on going out they should call me.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to go to bed around midnight, but couldn't sleep. So I got up. I found myself at two in the morning eating Ramen noodles and playing The Sims on the computer. A little bit later I remembered I had some strawberries and whip cream, yum. Next thing I knew, the sun was peeking through the front window. Crap, I need to go to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;I got a few hours of really great sleep before Willy called to see if I still wanted to ride. I told him it would probably be a few and he said just to come by their house when I was ready. I called him back when I was getting ready to leave and told him that they should meet me at the coffee shop because there was no way I was going to survive the day without it.&lt;br /&gt;We rode for a little while. Nowhere special, no epic ride, but it was great just to be out on the bike. And I really appreciate Willy D. and Carol for watching out for me whenever Dave is gone. &lt;br /&gt;I had mentioned that on Saturday I had to wear a backpack on my errands, and Willy remembered that we had some old saddle bags in my garage from when Dave had his VTX. He said we should see if they fit my bike so we went to my house and in about two seconds I had bags! Yeah! I think they look pretty good, and they'll definitely serve their purpose. I'll put some pics up of my bike soon, there are a couple of other little changes I've made recently. &lt;br /&gt;Then Willy D. and Carol went home and the rest of the day was spent doing pretty much nothing. Well, I did try to fix my broken garbage disposal but it's issues are beyond my limited skill in that area. &lt;br /&gt;So, that is how I spent my weekend as a childless single gal. And Dave thinks he's having all the fun! LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2711592300223886700?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2711592300223886700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2711592300223886700' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2711592300223886700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2711592300223886700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/whats-girl-to-do.html' title='What&apos;s A Girl To Do?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7020069159625247193</id><published>2009-07-17T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T09:55:13.905-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You Find Out Who Your Friends Are</title><content type='html'>We all go through situations in our life when we really need our friends. Sometimes the people we consider our closest friends are the one's who bail on us when we need them the most. It hurts, it especially hurts when these people are the one's we've stood by in their worst times. But if we stood by them for the right reasons then it wasn't because we expected something in return. I guess a positive thing we can take away from a situation like this is that it weeds out the people we don't really need in our lives and it leaves us with more time, energy, and love to share with the people who really deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ysgAbwKub7Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ysgAbwKub7Y&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7020069159625247193?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7020069159625247193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7020069159625247193' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7020069159625247193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7020069159625247193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-find-out-who-your-friends-are.html' title='You Find Out Who Your Friends Are'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3212843934308991433</id><published>2009-07-14T19:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T19:23:53.021-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Arizona Adventure: All Good Things Must Come To An End</title><content type='html'>It's taken me awhile to get around to writing my last post about our Arizona trip. I guess it's because I didn't want it to end, but it did, so I guess I'll have to get over it and write about the ride home.&lt;br /&gt;Ann was supposed to wake us up around 6:30. I woke up and the sun was so bright I thought for sure that she forgot, it had to be at least 10. Then I looked at the clock, it wasn't even 6 yet. Wow, it's never that bright that early in Salinas, NEVER.&lt;br /&gt;There's something about the sun shining so bright in the morning that makes it easier to get out of bed. Maybe it's because you can actually see that you're 'burning daylight', or maybe it's because you can tell it's going to be a beautiful day and you need to get out there, or maybe it's just because it's too damned bright to sleep anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the case, I was ready to get up. What I wasn't ready for was the fact that we had to go home. This trip was not nearly as long as it needed to be, but I guess I should just be thankful that I was able to make it at all.&lt;br /&gt;We got up and visited for quite awhile before we decided we better hit the road. So we finished loading up and said our goodbyes. Kickstand was nice enough to escort us to the road we would need to take to get out of town.&lt;br /&gt;The ride home was uneventful in the good way, but we did have fun at all our little stops that we made. We knew it was a long ride home, but none of us were really in any kind of hurry.&lt;br /&gt;Right after we got into California I started to feel really yucky from the heat, it's probably because I had to put that helmet back on. I knew that we would be stopping before too long so I was trying to just ride it out, but I finally told Dave that we needed to pull off soon. Willy must have read my mind because he took the very next exit.&lt;br /&gt;I was okay, but I knew that if I didn't take care of myself I wouldn't be. We hung out in the shade for awhile and drank about a gallon of water, and I put the water vest on. That made a huge difference. After that I was fine.&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward I don't know how many hours and we were in Paso Robles at about midnight and it was freezing. We pulled into a gas station and I put on the chaps and some more layers. Dave and Willy were laughing at me because I had a beanie on and then my hood pulled up over that and then my helmet over it. I looked like a big dork....did I care? NOOOOO. I just wanted to be warm.&lt;br /&gt;The last two hours of the ride were cold, freaking cold really, but it was still just awesome. The night was clear and I just stared at all the stars and thought about the really great trip we had. Every little bit Dave would give me the thumbs up to see how I was doing and I would give him my thumbs up to let him know I was still there.&lt;br /&gt;It was almost 3 AM when we rolled the bike into the garage. I was really surprised at how my body held up. That was the most extreme trip I have ever taken. Somewhere around 1600 miles in 4 days, extreme heat, extreme cold, and I did it. And yes, I am patting myself on the back a little bit. I didn't complain, I didn't even feel like complaining. I loved every minute of it! And when asked if I would do it again, my replied would be, "In a heartbeat!"&lt;br /&gt;I was glad for a lot of reasons that I decided not to ride my own on this trip, but next time......I think I'll be ready!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-06.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979429549574&amp;amp;site=widget-06.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429549574&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/p1/2666130979429549574/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429549574&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/p2/2666130979429549574/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=2666130979429549574&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/m/2666130979429549574/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=2666130979429549574&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-06.slide.com/p4/2666130979429549574/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3212843934308991433?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3212843934308991433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3212843934308991433' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3212843934308991433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3212843934308991433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/amazing-arizona-adventure-all-good.html' title='Amazing Arizona Adventure: All Good Things Must Come To An End'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5104213996339434084</id><published>2009-07-11T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T18:42:27.967-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Missions And (almost) a Baptism</title><content type='html'>*One little note before I get started- I do still have one Arizona post left, but I guess I'm putting it off, because it's the trip home. :(   I'll get around to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, on to today's story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several days ago, Dave told me that the "Thunder Riders" were having a Mission Run this weekend. I have gone to several of their events and have always enjoyed them so I thought that this sounded like a good way to spend a Saturday. They really do a lot for our community and I'm happy to support them.&lt;br /&gt;As of yesterday I wasn't sure exactly where the run went and what missions we would be visiting so I considered just riding with Dave. I still only have my permit, and although I have ridden on the freeways I was worried that it would be too much time on the freeway and too much chance of me getting in trouble. But then Dave brought me a route map and I realized that the missions were all pretty close, hardly any freeway time, and good roads. So this morning I decided to ride my own, and I'm so glad that I did.&lt;br /&gt;Dave had donated coffee for the morning sign up, so he was out of the house a little before 8 to go and take care of that. While he was gone I got ready and by the time he came back to the house I was all set to go.&lt;br /&gt;After stopping for gas we headed over to Monterey County Harley for the sign up. Dave informed me that we would have to go in the front of the parking lot. Big deal you say? Well, I always go in the back way, because the front has this really messed up driveway and I have seen several riders go down either going in or out. He asked if I was okay with that, and I gave him my standard, "Do I really have a choice?"&lt;br /&gt;We pulled into the parking lot, no problem, I was just glad that I had room and nobody stopped in front of me on the way in. After I got my girl parked, Tom (the one who is pretty much responsible for me buying my bike) comes over and gives me a big hug and tells me that I looked really good and really confident, that made me happy.&lt;br /&gt;I was sad that Willy D. and Carol wouldn't be joining us for this ride, but apparently Willy thinks he has some kind of responsibilities or something.&lt;br /&gt;They had group rides set up, but you could choose if you wanted to go in a group or on your own. We met up with a couple of guys, Paul and Jeff, who are both regulars at Dave's shop. We decided the four of us would go out on our own little group. The first few miles for me were spent just getting used to following someone besides Willy or Dave. Jeff was in the lead, then Paul, me and Dave in the rear. Jeff is a really great rider and I felt at ease with him as our leader.&lt;br /&gt;I really felt like I was in the zone today. I'm sure some of you can relate that some days you just feel it more than others. There was one point where traffic suddenly came to a dead stop and the car two ahead of us locked up his brakes. I had to stop faster than I've ever stopped before. I remember thinking, I have to stop, I have to stop fast, and I need to make sure that the car behind me isn't going to slam into me. I came to a stop a lot smoother than I expected and thankfully the car behind was paying attention and stayed a safe distance back. I hear Dave next to me yelling, "GOOD JOB!" I never get tired of his encouragement while riding.&lt;br /&gt;We made it to the first two missions with no problems, but then we couldn't find the third one. The route map didn't give good direction to this particular stop, but we finally managed to find it, thanks to this sweet older couple who came off their balcony when we stopped to turn around in front of their house. The lady was so sweet, she insisted that we take her map with us in case we needed it later.&lt;br /&gt;Getting lost wasn't all bad. I had a lot of opportunities to practice my u-turns, which are getting pretty good by the way! Unfortunately, by the time we made it to the third stop the people with the cards had already left. Oh well, as long as I still got to eat at the last stop I would be happy.&lt;br /&gt;We got a little bit of rain on the way to the last stop. Not too much, in fact I don't even know if it was enough for me to say that I've officially ridden in the rain. I thought I was going to be baptized, but it wasn't meant to be today. That's okay, I'm not too disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;We got to the fourth mission and I couldn't believe how many bikes were there, it was crazy. They had the streets blocked off and several blocks of San Juan Bautista were all ours. It was very cool.&lt;br /&gt;We were talking to Kyle, one of the owners of Monterey County HD and I told him that we had missed the cards at the last stop. He said just to tell them at the booth and we could get the cards for that stop as well as the last one. A lot of good it did, none of us won. They did the cards a really weird way, I can't explain it because I don't even understand it myself, I just know that I didn't win.&lt;br /&gt;But I did get a fantastic meal. The food was so good, I was a happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;We hung out in San Juan for awhile, ate, listened to the band, got ice cream, people watched (some people were watched more than others, by more than others of us), the usual. They announced that they had raised over $20,000.00 for youth programs. I think that's amazing!&lt;br /&gt;We left San Juan and headed home, well to the coffee shop.&lt;br /&gt;It was a great day, a great ride, and I'm really happy that I decided to ride my own. Today also is the most miles that I've ridden in one day on my own, 139! Whoo hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5104213996339434084?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5104213996339434084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5104213996339434084' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5104213996339434084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5104213996339434084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/four-missions-and-almost-baptism.html' title='Four Missions And (almost) a Baptism'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2890115095373145569</id><published>2009-07-09T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:18:02.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Glass Houses</title><content type='html'>You stand on the steps of your glass house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you throw rocks at me as I walk by&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you've never stopped me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to ask why I've done the things I have&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you are too busy judging me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and finding your rocks to throw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what you don't know is that I can see inside your house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also know the things that you have done&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what you don't understand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is that I'm too busy living my life to condemn you for yours&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make mistakes, as you do as well&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but while you are wasting your time finding and throwing rocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am trying to live my life the best I can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you can keep throwing your rocks, and I will do my best&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to dodge them as I walk by, and to forgive you for your ignorance&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2890115095373145569?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2890115095373145569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2890115095373145569' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2890115095373145569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2890115095373145569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/glass-houses.html' title='Glass Houses'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-446514786501427951</id><published>2009-07-03T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T19:20:12.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Independence Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;I hope everyone has a safe and happy Independence Day. I just wanted to share a few quotes that I found that I enjoyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it." ~William Faulkner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves." ~Abraham Lincoln&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"And I'm proud to be an American,&lt;br /&gt;where at least I know I'm free.&lt;br /&gt;And I won't forget the men who died,&lt;br /&gt;who gave that right to me."&lt;br /&gt;~Lee Greenwood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom, must, like men, undergo the fatigue of supporting it." ~Thomas Paine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;"This nation will remain the land of the free only so long as it is the home of the brave." ~Elmer Davis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;"Freedom has its life in the hearts, the actions, the spirit of men and so it must be daily earned and refreshed - else like a flower cut from its life-giving roots, it will wither and die." ~Dwight D. Eisenhower&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-446514786501427951?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/446514786501427951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=446514786501427951' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/446514786501427951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/446514786501427951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-independence-day.html' title='Happy Independence Day'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-51098362098354996</id><published>2009-07-01T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T22:02:15.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day Three</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I won't go into a lot of details about the third day of our trip, but I will say that the ride to Big D. and Ann's house was amazing. Big D. suggested that we ride through Sedona, it was so beautiful. I'm looking back at the pictures, and they just don't do any justice to the amazingly beautiful scenery we saw.&lt;br /&gt;After getting to their house, we just hung out and visited. It was just really nice hanging out with people you have a connection with. &lt;br /&gt;We also were able to meet 'Kickstand' and Mike and Sarah(from the Biker/Hillbilly wedding). They were all really cool, and I hope to be able to have more time to get to know them all next time. &lt;br /&gt;Big D. was cracking us all up. I had to pee, but I didn't want to miss any of the conversation, but then I was laughing so hard I thought I was going to pee my pants. It got late, and even though I didn't want to, I knew I had to go to bed. &lt;br /&gt;So day three was mostly riding with a little visiting at the end of the day! It was another great day in Arizona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-67.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979429387623&amp;amp;site=widget-67.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429387623&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-67.slide.com/p1/2666130979429387623/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429387623&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-67.slide.com/p2/2666130979429387623/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=2666130979429387623&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-67.slide.com/m/2666130979429387623/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=2666130979429387623&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-67.slide.com/p4/2666130979429387623/bb_t000_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-51098362098354996?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/51098362098354996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=51098362098354996' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/51098362098354996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/51098362098354996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/07/amazing-arizona-adventure-day-three.html' title='Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day Three'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4295422363905366817</id><published>2009-06-27T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T17:37:32.600-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day Two</title><content type='html'>Ok, so remember how I said that I would always wear a helmet, even if I had the option not to? Yeah, well, one of the first things I said to Dave Saturday morning was, "Hon, do I have to wear my helmet?" I was actually surprised when he said I didn't have to.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm not trying to start a helmet debate here, and honestly I don't care to have one, I'm just sharing my own experience. I loved riding without a helmet, there, I said it, me, the "safety girl", loves, loves, loves, no helmet!&lt;br /&gt;If you read Ann's post &lt;a href="http://annnelson.blogspot.com/2009/06/taking-road-less-traveled-day-2.html"&gt;Taking The Road Less Traveled: Day Two&lt;/a&gt; then you will pretty much have much of what I was going to say about Saturday, Thanks Ann! LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of things I would add to her story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me, bright eyed and bushy tailed? ummm, ok. I don't think anybody has ever used that expression to describe me in the morning, it must have been all the excitement. But at any rate, I'm glad you were impressed. And there was no way that I was going to miss the ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as I met Ann and Big D. I knew they were exactly who I thought they were. They are just amazingly decent people. I already knew that Ann and I were a lot alike, and by the time we were done with breakfast I was convinced that we had been separated at birth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting Arizona Harley Dude and Linda was also awesome. We just all clicked so well, if you were a spectator of our antics, you would've thought that we had been friends for years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buffalo...hey, the sign said not to climb on it, it never said we couldn't lay under it. But I have to say, Dave has been making some pretty strange noises ever since we got back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner at the steakhouse was the best meal I've had in a long time. Like Ann said, we got some looks from the bluehairs, but they were just jealous cuz we were so hot and had ourselves such sexy men, okay, sorry, it just had to be said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the bar I was super surprised when Dave asked me to dance, and he wasn't even drunk yet. Dave doesn't like to dance and I've never seen him dance, other than just goofing off at home. But he knows that I love to dance, and being the wonderful man he is, he wanted to make me happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another funny thing that happened...Ann, Linda and I were all dancing together and this very loud, very drunk woman starts dancing with us and high fiving us all around telling us we're a bunch of hot women. I saw a strange look on Linda's face and didn't get it until we went to sit back down and she said, "Did that woman call us white women?" She felt better when we told her what the woman had really said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an awesome day, and I loved the ride! I am definitely planing for this event next year. I was so impressed how welcoming the town was for this event, and how excited everyone was when we went on the little parade through town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you enjoy the slide show, some of the pics may look familiar from Ann's slide show, but hey, we were all at the same place. Also, I have no pics from Saturday night, they are on Dave's camera, I knew I would be in no shape to take pictures, or even be responsible for the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-ed.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979429357549&amp;amp;site=widget-ed.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429357549&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ed.slide.com/p1/2666130979429357549/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429357549&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ed.slide.com/p2/2666130979429357549/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=2666130979429357549&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ed.slide.com/m/2666130979429357549/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=2666130979429357549&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-ed.slide.com/p4/2666130979429357549/bb_t024_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4295422363905366817?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4295422363905366817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4295422363905366817' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4295422363905366817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4295422363905366817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/amazing-arizona-adventure-day-two.html' title='Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day Two'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7357113212632915640</id><published>2009-06-26T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T18:52:37.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One, Part Two</title><content type='html'>While we were waiting in Weed Patch I called Ann to let her know that we would be delayed, and I also called our hotel to make sure that they wouldn't give our room away. They assured me that they were keeping it just for us.&lt;br /&gt;I think it was almost five when we got back on the road. It was still hot, but I was wearing the water vest, so it wasn't too bad. Also Carol let me use her half helmet so I wouldn't have to suffer the heat in mine. It took a little getting used to since I have never ridden without a full face. Overall the ride was pretty comfortable, Dave made me a nice little cushion for my tush, and it helped a ton!&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got to Barstow I was extremely glad that I had decided not to try my Patience on this ride. It was so windy I don't know if I could have kept her skinny ass on the road.&lt;br /&gt;The skies were getting pretty dark, and I actually wouldn't have minded if it rained on us a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;We stopped often to fuel up, drink lots of water, and goof off. I was having a blast already! I couldn't wait to get there. Ann had said she was going to wait up for us, even when I called her and it was obvious we were going to be way late!&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got into Arizona, we stopped so the boys could take off their helmets. I left mine on, I had always said that even if given the choice, I would always wear one...well....more about that later!&lt;br /&gt;It seems like the last 300 miles we stopped more than we had the rest of the ride. It was understandable though, it was dark, getting cold, and we had all been up all day.&lt;br /&gt;We finally got to Williams at 2:00 in the morning. It had started raining on us a few miles out, and once we got there the rain really started coming down.&lt;br /&gt;The sweet guy at the office of the hotel was trying to tell us the best place to park the bikes. He said he had some cones we could use, but then he came back and said somebody had stolen them. This didn't make Dave feel good. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;I called Ann, but apparently she had given up and went to bed, can't say I blame her. So I left a message to let her know we made it and told her to call me in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;I was so happy to climb into a bed, definitely glad we decided on a room instead of camping. I hate sleeping in hotels, but I slept soooooo good that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming soon: Amazing Arizona Adventure; Day Two&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;click speaker for music!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 400px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-23.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;site=widget-23.slide.com"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 400px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-23.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;site=widget-23.slide.com"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-23.slide.com/p1/2666130979429298211/bb_t028_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-23.slide.com/p2/2666130979429298211/bb_t028_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-23.slide.com/m/2666130979429298211/bb_t028_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979429298211&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-23.slide.com/p4/2666130979429298211/bb_t028_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7357113212632915640?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7357113212632915640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7357113212632915640' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7357113212632915640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7357113212632915640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/while-we-were-waiting-in-weed-patch-i.html' title='Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One, Part Two'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3221941135859579188</id><published>2009-06-24T21:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-24T21:40:45.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One, Part One</title><content type='html'>Friday morning Dave and I woke up late, big surprise. Thankfully we had almost everything ready to go the night before so it didn't take too long to get out of the house. I walked outside and almost fainted...beautiful blue sky in Salinas at 6:30 in the morning...unheard of.  A great start for our ride.&lt;br /&gt;I have to say that it took a little bit of adjusting to being on the back of Dave's bike again. He finally had to tell me that he didn't need my help to lean the bike, oops, sorry.&lt;br /&gt;We got over to Willy and Carol's and they were waiting outside for us. I tried on a half helmet that Willy had hoping it would fit, because I wasn't really looking forward to wearing my full face helmet in the heat. It didn't fit so I was stuck with my Power Ranger helmet. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;After a couple of smokes and talk about the route we would be taking, we all saddled up and headed on our way.&lt;br /&gt;Usually Salinas is super overcast in the morning, and once you drive a few miles out of town you can see the sun, well, that morning was completely opposite. Salinas was beautiful and when we got out of town it was cold and foggy. It didn't last too long before the sun came out again and I was a happy girl.&lt;br /&gt;We were on our way. We made a few stops that were really not anything too exciting to write about. Once we got to Bakersfield it was getting pretty hot. We stopped for gas at a place called Weed Patch, Willy figured it would be an interesting place for a stop.&lt;br /&gt;This is where the only regrettable part of the trip took place.&lt;br /&gt;We stopped at Chevron and got off the bikes to gas up.  Dave said something to Carol and when he got no response from her he looked at me and said, "Man, she doesn't look happy." Then he went inside the store. It was about that time that I noticed Carol was walking funny. At first I thought maybe her leg was asleep or she had a cramp or something. But then I could tell something was seriously wrong. Willy noticed about the same time and realized she was having a bad reaction to the heat. He was basically dragging her inside to sit down in the air conditioned building. When we walked in he asked the woman behind the counter (we'll call her BITCH just to keep things simple) if they had a chair. She very rudely told us that she did not. So Willy told Carol just to sit on the floor. As he was trying to help her sit she almost feel on her face and hit the shelves on her way down. BITCH says, "Be careful for those shelves, they're expensive!" I shot her the nastiest look I possibly could, and then she says, "Well they are and they're really fragile." I looked at her and said, "Yeah, well so is my friend right now, so thanks!" She shut up, for a minute.&lt;br /&gt;Willy got Carol a Gatorade and left me with her while he went out to move his bike. Carol looked like she was going to throw up so I asked for a wastebasket. BITCH again showed her compassion by rolling her eyes and making a grunting sound. I said, "Look, I'll fucking clean it up, just give me a wastebasket now, she can't even fucking move!" At this time the poor guy working with BITCH looked very sympathetic and handed me the basket.&lt;br /&gt;BITCH then decides she needs to show more of her character by saying, "I have other customers who have to come in here."&lt;br /&gt;I looked at her with more disgust than I have felt in a long time and said, "I'm pretty sure your other customers will understand, I really hope nothing ever happens to you." I think that at this point she realized how close she was to being punched in the jaw because that was the last I heard from her.&lt;br /&gt;Carol was starting to look more like her usual self and Willy and Dave took her outside to sit in the shade and put Dave's water vest on her. As I was cleaning up the wastebasket the nice guy who worked with BITCH came over and told me not to worry about it, he would take care of it. Thanks decent Chevron employee. He also later came out to ask us if Carol was okay and to apologize for BITCH's behavior. I thanked him and got the name of who I should talk to when I called to complain, because believe me, I will be making sure something happens to that poor excuse for a human being.&lt;br /&gt;Carol was feeling better, but she and Willy decided it wasn't wise for her to continue on the trip, but Willy also didn't want to put her back on the bike and go back through the heat that had just caused her the problem. After looking at several options, Carol's parents said that they would come down and get her in the car. Now we had to figure out where this left the rest of the plans. Willy offered to go back home and not make the trip without Carol, but she is a good wife and insisted that he carry on without her. We were all sad that Carol wouldn't be continuing the rest of the trip, but none of us wanted to risk her health.&lt;br /&gt;It would be at least three or four hours before they would be there to pick her up, so we all hung out over at the Burger King, they were so nice, they never said a word about us being there for so long. Even though the situation sucked, we were making the most of the time we had to hang out with our friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, this is long already, looks like day one will have to have two parts.&lt;br /&gt;Next up: Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One, Part Two&lt;br /&gt;Pics from day one will be with the next post........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3221941135859579188?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3221941135859579188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3221941135859579188' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3221941135859579188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3221941135859579188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/amazing-arizona-adventure-day-one-part.html' title='Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One, Part One'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-243398334273667849</id><published>2009-06-23T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T21:04:29.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back In Cali</title><content type='html'>Well, we made it home. We rolled the bike into the garage at 2:45 this morning, one word...brrrr.&lt;br /&gt;I have tons of stuff to say and lots of pics to share, I will need a couple of days to get my shit together, but to sum up our trip....Fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;I really needed this trip, and it couldn't have been better. It was also good for Dave and I to share this experience together. We both already realize that what we have is something special, but times like this just reinforce the connection.&lt;br /&gt;Coming soon.....Amazing Arizona Adventure: Day One&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-243398334273667849?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/243398334273667849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=243398334273667849' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/243398334273667849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/243398334273667849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/back-in-cali.html' title='Back In Cali'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1388816761453871701</id><published>2009-06-18T21:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T21:26:30.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Quickie</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone! Just a little quickie here! I'm sorry I haven't really had time to check in with any of you this past week or so.  I've been busy getting Riley ready to go to his dad's and getting myself ready to go to Arizona.&lt;br /&gt;We are leaving bright and early tomorrow, well, probably dark and early. I know I won't be able to sleep tonight, I'm so excited. I'm ready to get the &lt;a href="mailto:f@#k"&gt;f@#k&lt;/a&gt; outta here and have a good time!&lt;br /&gt;I will take tons of pics and return with stories of our adventure!  Hope you all have a great weekend, and to all of you dads:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1388816761453871701?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1388816761453871701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1388816761453871701' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1388816761453871701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1388816761453871701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-quickie.html' title='Just A Quickie'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-290283181007834612</id><published>2009-06-05T10:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T10:15:39.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Temperamental Patience</title><content type='html'>My usually sweet Patience was very temperamental this morning when I rode her to work. Hmmm, maybe it's because she's been stuck in the garage for the past two weeks, or maybe, just maybe, Dave's Tramp spilled the beans. I'll bet that's it! While they were in the garage that bitch must have let it slip that I'm taking a road trip and leaving her home.&lt;br /&gt;I better ride her as much as possible before I go so she doesn't get really mad! And so I don't go really insane!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-290283181007834612?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/290283181007834612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=290283181007834612' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/290283181007834612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/290283181007834612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/temperamental-patience.html' title='Temperamental Patience'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4836069526472462132</id><published>2009-06-01T09:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T09:26:01.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Question Everyone Wants Answered</title><content type='html'>So, the burning question.....Are we going to get to go to party with Big D. and Ann?&lt;br /&gt;The answer is......YES!&lt;br /&gt;We are going to Arizona. I'm so excited I even had a dream about it last night. It was kind of a crazy ass dream, but I expect when we get out there it will be a crazy ass time!&lt;br /&gt;Willy D. and Dave are also excited, so much so that when Willy showed up at our house Saturday morning he was already packed. I had to remind him that it's still three weeks away. But he's ready to roll.&lt;br /&gt;I had thought about riding my bike, what an adventure that would be. But in the end I think it will be best to leave her home this time. We are on a tight budget for this trip, and it would be one more bike to have to gas up, and also one more bike to worry about any mechanical problems. So I will be riding bitch, but that's okay, I think I've only been on the back of Dave's bike two times since I got mine. It will give me an opportunity to take some great pics on the ride.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really looking forward to this trip, and looking forward to meeting my long lost sister Ann, and Big D. of course!&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure we will have some great stories to share!&lt;br /&gt;I'm not one to wish my life away, but I sure hope the next couple of weeks go by fast!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4836069526472462132?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4836069526472462132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4836069526472462132' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4836069526472462132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4836069526472462132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/06/question-everyone-wants-answered.html' title='The Question Everyone Wants Answered'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3920473304400052087</id><published>2009-05-27T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T10:18:43.008-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Big Day For Rexidoodle</title><content type='html'>Yesterday our baby Rex turned one! He has grown so much in the past year. I just wanted to share some pictures of then and now so you can all see how beautiful he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s1600-h/100_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340547449848014562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s200/100_0029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340547709983611122" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 149px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1v2MeZWPI/AAAAAAAAAbY/WuW2QdrNR9Q/s200/rex2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s1600-h/100_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s1600-h/100_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And now:&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1wfkqBWVI/AAAAAAAAAbw/zzkTW_P7uhE/s1600-h/DSC02620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340548420849457490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1wfkqBWVI/AAAAAAAAAbw/zzkTW_P7uhE/s200/DSC02620.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1wIWFFTrI/AAAAAAAAAbg/h9G9LgZ5uIE/s1600-h/DSC02616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340548021799440050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1wIWFFTrI/AAAAAAAAAbg/h9G9LgZ5uIE/s200/DSC02616.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340548251991702546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1wVvnMfBI/AAAAAAAAAbo/fD15p1rCdck/s200/DSC02617.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1w6LgWgDI/AAAAAAAAAb4/STYKzCP6dD0/s1600-h/DSC02663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340548877954482226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1w6LgWgDI/AAAAAAAAAb4/STYKzCP6dD0/s200/DSC02663.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340549368680371666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1xWvmhVdI/AAAAAAAAAcA/q4VKnG6NgLg/s200/DSC02658.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can see how big he's gotten by his sheds, yes I keep them, I'm a freak like that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1xl3teO5I/AAAAAAAAAcI/MxksUbkzLvM/s1600-h/DSC02651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340549628555049874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1xl3teO5I/AAAAAAAAAcI/MxksUbkzLvM/s200/DSC02651.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5fc23bc03a50f096" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5fc23bc03a50f096%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330434960%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA3D77E96A247F5B5F546D4D78FBDDFE9686EB14.39671D908E3100A68094CB347FE68B0EA6E50B3F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5fc23bc03a50f096%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrMGlX_yMRzcE0CFPPgFALmTyNqw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5fc23bc03a50f096%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330434960%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DA3D77E96A247F5B5F546D4D78FBDDFE9686EB14.39671D908E3100A68094CB347FE68B0EA6E50B3F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5fc23bc03a50f096%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DrMGlX_yMRzcE0CFPPgFALmTyNqw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s1600-h/100_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3920473304400052087?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=5fc23bc03a50f096&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3920473304400052087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3920473304400052087' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3920473304400052087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3920473304400052087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/05/big-day-for-rexidoodle.html' title='A Big Day For Rexidoodle'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/Sh1vnDZPJuI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/cMFE6s9XfDQ/s72-c/100_0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7451710400434058807</id><published>2009-05-11T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T10:07:26.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Precious Mother's Day Gift</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my best friend Angie was given the most precious Mother's Day gift possible. At 2:09 in the morning she welcomed into this world her first child, Connor Wyatt.&lt;br /&gt;Angie and I have been friends for almost 30 years, and have been through so many things together, a lot of good times, and some heartbreaks. One of those heartbreaks had been years of Angie trying to conceive, and then suffering a miscarriage last year. She has been known by Riley as Auntie Em, and she has been the most amazing auntie to him. Ever since he was born she has loved him, and it was obvious that she longed more than anything to be a mother.&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy for her that she was blessed with this wonderful gift and on such an appropriate day. She is nervous about what kind of a mother she will be, I think we've all been there, but I believe that she will be an amazing mom.&lt;br /&gt;Welcome to the world little Connor, you are such a blessing for your Mommy and Daddy, and someday when you are older, you will know how blessed you were to be given such loving parents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7451710400434058807?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7451710400434058807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7451710400434058807' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7451710400434058807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7451710400434058807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/05/precious-mothers-day-gift.html' title='A Precious Mother&apos;s Day Gift'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3794633733428330905</id><published>2009-05-06T06:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T06:00:00.764-07:00</updated><title type='text'>HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVEY!</title><content type='html'>In honor of my Lovey's birthday, I wanted to give you all a little more insight on who he is with "The ABC's of Dave"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Dave is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Adventurous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Brilliant&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Compassionate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Devoted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Enthusiastic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Fearless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Generous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Hilarious&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Intelligent&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Joyful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Kind&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Loving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Manly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Nurturing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Optimistic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Passionate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Quirky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Resourceful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sexy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Talented&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Unwavering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Vigorous&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Wonderful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Xceptional ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Youthful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Zaney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Y &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;B&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6633ff;"&gt;R&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ff33;"&gt;T&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;Y&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;I love you very much!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3794633733428330905?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3794633733428330905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3794633733428330905' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3794633733428330905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3794633733428330905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-birthday-lovey.html' title='HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVEY!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2774943425259130554</id><published>2009-04-29T10:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T16:50:21.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What A Year It Has Been!</title><content type='html'>Wow, it's been a year already! When Dave first started blogging, Riley and I would make fun of him relentlessly. It just sounded funny....blogger, so we had a great time teasing him and calling him "blogger" for days. Once I started actually reading his blog, and the comments that he would get, I realized what a great outlet this was, and how many really cool people he was meeting. That was when I decided to become a "blogger".&lt;br /&gt;Most of you I know have been here from the beginning of my blog, thanks to Dave's head start for me, but for those of you who may not have been reading my blog from the beginning I have put together some links that will help you see where this year has taken me. It has been a really amazing year and I thank all of you for the friendship, support, concern, laughs, and advice I have received from you. Here's a look back at my year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/04/journey-begins.html"&gt;The Journey Begins -&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first post. I really had no expectations when I started, I just felt like chronicling my journey of wanting to move up front, and seeing where it would take me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/07/musical-motorcycle-montage.html"&gt;Musical Motorcycle Montage-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying on different bikes. I had my ideas of what I liked, but since it would be my first, I wasn't really sure what I would end up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/most-exciting-laundry-day-ever.html"&gt;The Most Exciting Laundry Day Ever-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I found "MY" bike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/unnamed-baby-girl.html"&gt;Unnamed Baby Girl- &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of my first bike!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-time.html"&gt;My First Ride&lt;/a&gt;-&lt;br /&gt;A hilarious video of my maiden voyage, in the parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/out-of-parking-lot-into-dump.html"&gt;Out Of The Parking Lot Into The Dump-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started out good, but ended on a bit of a low note.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/10/bbs-bike-garage.html"&gt;B.B.'s Bike Garage-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting on my engine guard, and practicing the proper way to pick up my bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-first-solo-ride.html"&gt;My First Solo Ride-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The title says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/main-roads-and-back-roads-and-freeways.html"&gt;Main Roads, and Back roads and Freeways, OH MY!-&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some more learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so this is more links than I had planned on, but it basically gives you an idea of how I started my adventure, and if you want to read my latest accomplishment read &lt;a href="http://roadgritscafe.blogspot.com/2009/04/blow-job-outlaw-bb.html"&gt;Blow Job and Outlaw B.B. &lt;/a&gt;over on Dave's blog. And you can always check out the archives to read any of my other silly posts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks all for coming on my journey with me, and hopefully I can get out of this block and start posting more! Love to you all! Ride safe, Ride Happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2774943425259130554?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2774943425259130554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2774943425259130554' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2774943425259130554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2774943425259130554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-year-it-has-been.html' title='What A Year It Has Been!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2179598750993129821</id><published>2009-04-04T17:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T17:24:27.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Okay!</title><content type='html'>Okay, Dave is really annoyed with me....first that I went on Hiatus, and second that I made it so nobody could comment on that post, so he has been receiving a lot of emails from our concerned friends. So let me just tell you all that I am fine! Thank you all for asking and making sure everything was okay. I thought about just playing the whole thing off as an April Fool's joke, but I don't really like to be dishonest, and since that wasn't my intent, I won't tell you it was. Truth is I was just in a really dark place for a few days with some stuff to work out in my head as well as my life. I thought about not saying anything at all, but I seriously didn't know how long it would be before I got stuff sorted out and felt like hanging out here again and I wanted to at least let everyone know that I would be gone, so if you didn't see me commenting you wouldn't think that I didn't love ya'll anymore. So that's it, I have not been abducted by aliens, arrested, kidnapped by a biker gang, or beaten up by Dave. I'm here, I'm okay, and I'm truly touched that I have friends who care. So am I back??? Yes, but I may be a little scarce here and there, things are getting to where they need to be, but I'm still working out a few little kinks!  You are all awesome friends and I appreciate you all very much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2179598750993129821?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2179598750993129821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2179598750993129821' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2179598750993129821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2179598750993129821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-okay.html' title='I&apos;m Okay!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7113161752728486036</id><published>2009-04-02T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T10:15:35.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On Hiatus</title><content type='html'>I'm going on Hiatus, don't know how long I'll be gone, but hopefully you'll all still be around when I get back. Ride Safe, Ride Happy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7113161752728486036?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7113161752728486036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7113161752728486036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/04/on-hiatus.html' title='On Hiatus'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7251200121987994062</id><published>2009-03-26T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:11:04.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing Would Deter Me Today</title><content type='html'>I made a plan at the end of last week. My plan was that this week I would ride to work every day! Well, you know what they say about plans.&lt;br /&gt;Monday- Well, I don't really remember Monday, but for some reason I wasn't able to ride to work.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday- The kid was sick, he couldn't go to school, so he had to go to work with me. Had to drive the car because A) I'm not supposed to ride with a passenger and B) He didn't want to sit on the fender.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday- Same as Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;That brings us to today. I woke up and the sun was shining through the window, beautiful, no clouds in the sky. I took the kid to school, went home to get ready, and by the time I got out of the shower.....no sun, nothing but overcast. Hmmm....fog, or rain clouds. Looks like fog, but then again....&lt;br /&gt;I don't care, I'm going to ride to work dang it! If it rains...let it. Nothing is going to stop me today, I am a determined woman......Bring it on world.....I'm ready for you today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7251200121987994062?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7251200121987994062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7251200121987994062' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7251200121987994062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7251200121987994062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/03/nothing-would-deter-me-today.html' title='Nothing Would Deter Me Today'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3658705058220444997</id><published>2009-03-17T00:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T10:14:19.212-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night Reflections</title><content type='html'>There is a peace that comes with being alone, but only if you are comfortable in your own skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is joy in the love of friends, but only if you know who your friends are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is beauty everywhere in this world, but only if you take the time to seek it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is knowledge that comes from inner reflection, but only if you are willing to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is satisfaction in a job well done, but only if your heart was in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is relief in letting go of regret, but only if you really mean it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a lesson in every mistake, but only if you are humble enough to admit that you made one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is hope in that helping hand, but only if you are willing to grab it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is love around for each one of us, but only if you are able to realize you deserve it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, It's after midnight and I'm really tired, in fact so tired, that it's taken me a few minutes to type just this sentence because I keep transposing letters. Anyways, I just felt like writing, I've been very reflective the last couple of days, not sure why, but I just felt like dragging the rest of you along with me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3658705058220444997?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3658705058220444997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3658705058220444997' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3658705058220444997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3658705058220444997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/03/late-night-reflections.html' title='Late Night Reflections'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5914157861138530930</id><published>2009-03-15T10:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T10:27:10.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe</title><content type='html'>Maybe . . we were supposed to meet the wrong people before meeting the right one so that, when we finally meet the right person, we will know how to be grateful for that gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . when the door of happiness closes, another opens; but, often times, we look so long at the closed door that we don't even see the new one which has been opened for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . it is true that we don't know what we have until we lose it, but it is also true that we don't know what we have been missing until it arrives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . the happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . the brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; after all, you can't go on successfully in life until you let go of your past mistakes, failures, and heartaches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you should dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go, be what you want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the things you dream of, and want to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . there are moments in life when you miss someone -- a parent, a spouse, a friend, a child -- so much that you just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real, so that once they are around you appreciate them more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . the best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you should always try to put yourself in others' shoes. If you feel that something could hurt you, it probably will hurt the other person, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you should do something nice for someone every single day, even if it is simply to leave them alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they will love you back. Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart; but, if it doesn't, be content that it grew in yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . happiness waits for all those who cry, all those who hurt, all those who have searched, and all those who have tried , for only they can appreciate the importance of all the people who have touched their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you shouldn't go for looks; they can deceive; don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile, because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one who makes your heart smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you should hope for enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, and enough hope to make you happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe . . you should try to live your life to the fullest because when you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling, but when you die, you can be the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5914157861138530930?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5914157861138530930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5914157861138530930' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5914157861138530930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5914157861138530930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/03/maybe.html' title='Maybe'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5781168816122183270</id><published>2009-03-11T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T10:22:38.080-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Really a Wine Drinker</title><content type='html'>I wanted to share this conversation with you that I had with my son, for those of you who don't know, he's nine.&lt;br /&gt;Let me preface by telling you this, I have a bottle of wine that was bottled on July 4, 1976 in commemoration of our country's Bicentennial. Ok, that being said, here is the conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riley: Mom, are you ever going to drink that wine?&lt;br /&gt;Me: No Ry, that's a very special bottle of wine. It was bottled on the 200th birthday of our country.&lt;br /&gt;Riley: Oh, well you should drink it before you die. That would be a nice treat.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yeah, I guess it would.&lt;br /&gt;Riley: Yeah, but you don't always know when you're going to die. But if you're in the hospital and you do know, then you should drink it.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Ok, I'll make you a deal. When I'm an old lady and I'm in the hospital about to die, you bring me that bottle of wine and we'll share it.&lt;br /&gt;Riley: No, I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well, by then you'll be old enough to drink wine.&lt;br /&gt;Riley: I'm not really a wine drinker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm very happy to know that at nine years old, my son knows he isn't really a wine drinker!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5781168816122183270?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5781168816122183270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5781168816122183270' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5781168816122183270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5781168816122183270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-not-really-wine-drinker.html' title='I&apos;m Not Really a Wine Drinker'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-356184444191874719</id><published>2009-03-04T10:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T10:44:43.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's raining, it's pouring, and things are getting boring!</title><content type='html'>We have been getting a lot of rain here in sunny California. It's great because we really need the rain. The Governator declared a state of emergency due to the drought we are facing for the third year in a row. It would just be nice if it could rain all night and then quit during the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I took the kid to school this morning I was optimistic. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the sun was shining brightly. I figured I could get a couple things done and then get some riding in since I have the day off from work. So just as I was getting ready to leave the coffee shop the rain started really coming down, no ride for me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I can't ride, and I don't want to go home to clean, I decided to share a couple of things that really peeve me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I'm sick of people being in such a hurry all the time. I usually drive 5 miles over the speed limit, and I always try to stay in the slow lane so speed demons can pass me. But this doesn't seem good enough for those assholes who are in a huge hurry. I love it when some dumb ass rides my ass for 5 miles, finally decides to pass and then ends up next to me at the next red light. Here's a tip folks....if you're late for work, you're still going to be late no matter how fast you drive. Try waking up a few minutes earlier, or taking a shorter shower. Give yourself more time. Don't get me wrong, there are times that I like to drive fast, just to drive fast, but I don't tailgate, and I don't weave in and out of traffic just to get one car length ahead of someone.&lt;br /&gt;This whole being in a hurry thing also applies to people waiting in lines. A few years ago Riley and I went to Disneyland for Christmas. I knew on Christmas Day it was going to be packed, and I resigned myself to the fact that we would be doing a lot of waiting. And we did, in line for the rides, the bathrooms, and food. I was amazed at the people waiting in line bitching about having to wait...what did they expect? And then they would be rude to the people working. Hey, give these folks a break, they're doing the best they can, putting up with assholes like you and doing it with a smile on their face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm in a public bathroom, let's say there are ten stalls and I'm the only one in there. Someone comes in and has to use a stall right next to mine. Why does this bother me? I don't know, personal space maybe. Same thing at Dave's coffee shop. There are ten computers, I'm the only one here, and someone comes in and has to sit right next to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The lack of common courtesy. Someone holds a door for you, say thanks. How hard is that? The other day I saw a lady who had her hands full so I went out of my way to open the door for her and she didn't even smile or nod or anything. Now, I believe that we should be decent human beings without expecting anything in return, but it would be nice just to know that someone appreciates when you do something nice for them. People have told me before that I care too much what people think about me because there are certain conversations I won't have in public, or certain things I won't do, it isn't about what they think about me, it's about trying to be aware of other people's comfort levels. Do I think I need to change my whole life to accommodate others? No, I don't, but I also don't think it's too much to ask of me to move a few feet away while smoking so that it isn't blowing into the faces of people who choose not to damage their lungs. Or for me not to curse like a sailor in Chuck-E-Cheese and educate other people's children in all the different ways you can use the "F" word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. People who bitch and bitch and bitch about a situation that they could change if they wanted to, but they don't do anything about it but continue to bitch to anybody who will listen. Venting is one thing, and there are things in all of our lives that we cannot change. I complain about things, but I also try to change the things that are in my control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Bill collectors. Yes, I understand if I owe your company money it is your right to get it from me, and I should pay it. You are doing your job and I understand that. Here is my issue...You call me and say my minimum payment is past due in the amount of $150. Ok, I'm out of work right now, I would really like to pay you something, but all I have in my account right now is $75. I would be happy to pay that and then pay the remaining as soon as possible. And then you say, "Well do you think you could pay $125?"  Hello? I just told you how much I could pay, and that is what I can pay right now. Take it or leave it. Ok, you'll take it. You  can set up a check by phone. Great. Oh, guess what there is a $25 fee for that. Well sorry, make that payment $50 then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I think those are the only things I can think of right now.  Thanks for letting me vent for a few minutes, now I think I can go home and clean. Oh wait, that's #6.  Cleaning, I do it, it gets dirty again, what's up with that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-356184444191874719?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/356184444191874719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=356184444191874719' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/356184444191874719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/356184444191874719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-raining-its-pouring-and-things-are.html' title='It&apos;s raining, it&apos;s pouring, and things are getting boring!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3076118493693502385</id><published>2009-02-25T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T16:25:58.248-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forced To Give Up A Passion</title><content type='html'>Anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE food more than most people do. I love the way it looks, the way it smells, the way it tastes, the way it feels, etc, etc. It's amazing to me that my passion for food has not led me to obesity. I guess I have been blessed with my mother's super fast metabolism. It has slowed down as I've gotten older, but when I've noticed the pants were getting tight I would just work out more so I could eat the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, recently I found out that I have an ulcer as well as some other stomach problems. I have been placed on a very restricted diet, and by very restricted, I mean there are more things on the "can't eat" list than there are on the "can eat" list. I have done pretty good sticking to the lists. Two things I haven't given up that I'm supposed to are coffee and cigarettes. But, I have cut down, less than 6 ounces of coffee a day, and a few smokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The breaking point came yesterday when the Girl Scout cookies I had ordered came in, and I realized that I couldn't eat any. I wanted to cry. Then I got this overwhelming craving for In-N-Out Burger. When Dave got home I told him that I really (X about 15) wanted to go there for dinner. He of course, looking out for my well-being, said he didn't think it was a good idea. At that point I threw the cookies at him and said, "Fine! Enjoy your frickin' cookies!" Then we went to In-N-Out for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised Dave I wouldn't complain if I was in pain later, so I won't tell you how I felt after eating the burger, but I will say that it was worth it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we all have to give up things now and then, The Sentimental Sasquatch is saying &lt;a href="http://sentimentalsasquatch.blogspot.com/"&gt;"So Long to Donuts."&lt;/a&gt;  So I was just wondering, what passion have you had to give up, or revise, and how did you get through it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3076118493693502385?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3076118493693502385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3076118493693502385' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3076118493693502385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3076118493693502385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/02/forced-to-give-up-passion.html' title='Forced To Give Up A Passion'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5921198605642823235</id><published>2009-02-23T18:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T18:40:00.343-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You're Fabulous Darlings!</title><content type='html'>I was excited to see that Baron from &lt;a href="http://baronsview.blogspot.com/"&gt;Baron's Life&lt;/a&gt; thinks my Blog is FABULOUS! Thanks Baron. Okay here's the rules folks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;1. You have to pass it on to 5 other fabulous bloggers in a post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;2. You have to list 5 of your fabulous addictions in the post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;3. You must copy and paste the rules and the instructions below in the post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;Instructions: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153);"&gt;On your post receiving this award, make sure you include the person that gave you the award and link it back to them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;So here are my addictions: (Not necessarily in this order)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;1. Yucky cigarettes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;2. My son.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;3. &lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Dave.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;4. My bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;5. Eating, well until recently. (Future post to come)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the 5 blogs that I think are FABULOUS!! Of course I think you're all FABULOUS, but the rules say only 5, and these are the five I picked, in no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://roadgritscafe.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Road Grits Cafe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://bikerchickzblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Biker Chickz Blog&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt; &lt;a href="http://fasthair.blogspot.com/"&gt;Fasthair&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://carlaking.typepad.com/weblog/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bigdaddynelson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Big Daddy's Idle Thoughts&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;a href="http://ladyridesalot.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;Glider Rider&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5921198605642823235?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5921198605642823235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5921198605642823235' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5921198605642823235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5921198605642823235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/02/youre-fabulous-darlings.html' title='You&apos;re Fabulous Darlings!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4442983068427288398</id><published>2009-02-18T13:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T13:52:40.662-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bloggers Anonymous</title><content type='html'>I wanted to post this comic I saw this morning, but it wouldn't let me, so click on the link:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gocomics.com/features/112/feature_items/411815?msg_id=294193,411815"&gt;Non Sequitur&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was fun for the middle of the week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4442983068427288398?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4442983068427288398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4442983068427288398' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4442983068427288398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4442983068427288398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/02/bloggers-anonymous.html' title='Bloggers Anonymous'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-8423957411151145342</id><published>2009-02-04T09:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T09:46:08.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>IF TOMORROW STARTS WITHOUT ME</title><content type='html'>Last night I came across the obituary of someone I knew several years ago. It was a shock to see his name there. He was only 30 years old and he had a  daughter about the same age as my son. My biggest fear in life is that I will die while my son is young. I know I have no control over when it's my time, but I just hope that when it is my time to go that everyone in my life will know how much they mean to me.&lt;br /&gt;When I checked my email this morning, this was the first message I read, and I was so touched by it that I wanted to share it with all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A few weeks ago a woman was killed in an auto accident. She was very well liked, so the office shut down for her funeral and it was on the news and so on. On the day the workers came back to work, they found this poem in their  e-mail that the deceased woman had sent on Friday before she  left for home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If tomorrow starts without me, And I'm not there to see,&lt;br /&gt;If the sun should rise and find your eyes all filled with tears for me;&lt;br /&gt;I wish so much you wouldn't cry the way you did today,&lt;br /&gt;While thinking of the many things, We didn't get to say.&lt;br /&gt;I know how much you love me, As much as I love you,    &lt;br /&gt;And each time that you think of me, I know you'll miss me too;      &lt;br /&gt;But when tomorrow starts without me, Please try to understand,     &lt;br /&gt;that an angel came and called my name, And took me by the hand,      &lt;br /&gt;And said my place was ready, In heaven far above,&lt;br /&gt;And that I'd have to leave behind all those I dearly love.&lt;br /&gt;But as I turned to walk away, A tear fell from my eye,&lt;br /&gt;For all my life, I'd always thought, I didn't want to die.&lt;br /&gt;I had so much to live for, So much left yet to do,&lt;br /&gt;it seemed almost impossible, that I was leaving you.&lt;br /&gt;I thought of all the yesterdays, The good ones and the bad,&lt;br /&gt;I thought of all that we shared, And all the fun we had..&lt;br /&gt;If I could relive yesterday, Just even for a while,      &lt;br /&gt;I'd say good-bye and kiss you and maybe see you smile.&lt;br /&gt;But  then I fully realized, That this could never be,&lt;br /&gt;For emptiness and  memories, would take the place of me.&lt;br /&gt;And when I thought of worldly things, I might miss  some tomorrow,&lt;br /&gt;I thought of  you, and when I did, My heart was filled with sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;But when I walked through heaven's gates, I felt so much at home.&lt;br /&gt;When God looked down and smiled at me, From His great golden throne,&lt;br /&gt;He said, 'This is eternity, And all I've promised you.'&lt;br /&gt;Today your life on earth is past, but here life starts anew.&lt;br /&gt;I promise no tomorrow, But today will always last,&lt;br /&gt;and since each day is the same way, There's no longing for the past.&lt;br /&gt;So when tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart,&lt;br /&gt;For every time you think of me, I'm right here, in your heart '&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-8423957411151145342?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/8423957411151145342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=8423957411151145342' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8423957411151145342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8423957411151145342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-tomorrow-starts-without-me.html' title='IF TOMORROW STARTS WITHOUT ME'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7021342970049982563</id><published>2009-01-29T09:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T10:16:09.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess What I Did Today?</title><content type='html'>The day before yesterday while I was riding home from work my bike started sputtering and then stalled when I was stopped at a red light. After about two seconds I realized I was probably low on fuel so I switched over to my reserve. No biggie, I was actually pretty excited that I figured it out so quickly.&lt;br /&gt;This morning I wanted to ride to work, but I wasn't really sure how far I could go on reserve. I looked in my owner's manual to see if it said, but I couldn't find anything about it. So, I knew I should just go get gas. Now for the crazy part. I've had my bike for 5 months and I've never put gas in it by myself. Sounds stupid, but every time I've gotten gas Dave has been with me, and being the gentleman that he is, he always pumped the gas for me.&lt;br /&gt;Since Dave was at work, and I really wanted to ride, I figured today was a good day to grow up and pump my own gas. I rode over to the gas station, and thankfully it wasn't busy. I pulled right up and put some fuel in my baby. It really isn't a big deal, I know, but I was worried I would end up spilling gas all over the place. I didn't, not one single drop.&lt;br /&gt;Since I made the gas detour I had to take a different route to work, which is always exciting. I was driving past the police station which has parking stalls in front, and I see this big black SUV with her reverse lights on, and she starts backing out right as I'm getting next to her bumper. In one movement, I honked my horn and swerved to avoid her. As I pull by she looks at me like she can't figure out why I'm honking at her. I just shake my head and ride away. Normally I would've saluted her and cursed loud enough for her to get my point. But today it just didn't seem important. She didn't see me, I was able to avoid her, and it was all good.&lt;br /&gt;I have been riding to work every day and I'm so happy. I almost feel guilty because I actually live close enough that I could walk, but I'd rather ride my bike. Besides, I walk enough at work. When I ride to work, I get there feeling happy and accomplished. It's just the perfect way to start and finish the work day.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that's all. I just wanted to share my little accomplishment of the day. I hope that all of you who are able to ride these days are enjoying it as much as I am, and for those of you who can't ride right now, I hope you are all enjoying the other pleasures in your life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7021342970049982563?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7021342970049982563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7021342970049982563' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7021342970049982563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7021342970049982563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/guess-what-i-did-today.html' title='Guess What I Did Today?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4408851106166550491</id><published>2009-01-28T13:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T13:40:49.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It Just Isn't Gonna Happen</title><content type='html'>I came to a sad realization today. As much as I have tried to stay in denial about the situation, it is time to face the cold hard facts........Dave &amp;amp; I will not be able to go to Sturgis this year.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really bummed, but there is just no way it will work out. We can't afford it plain and simple. Besides the expenses of the trip, neither of us get paid vacations, so to take off for two weeks and not get paid would just put us in an even worse position than we are in now.&lt;br /&gt;Dave just read this over my shoulder and said, "There's still hope, don't give up on the dream! You can't post this yet!"&lt;br /&gt;Sorry babe, unless we win the lotto, this year is out! :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4408851106166550491?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4408851106166550491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4408851106166550491' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4408851106166550491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4408851106166550491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-just-isnt-gonna-happen.html' title='It Just Isn&apos;t Gonna Happen'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-507022127918385696</id><published>2009-01-22T09:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T09:51:56.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My (kindof) New Job</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I started a new job, that is actually kind of an old job. Some of you may remember that I mentioned one of my old bosses sent me an email asking if I would like to come back to work for her. She owns a restaurant/brewery that she and her husband opened up about seven years ago. I started with them on day one when they opened.&lt;br /&gt;I started out as a server, and I loved it! After a little while of serving they promoted me to a management position and entrusted me with their 'baby' while they would go on vacations or just take much needed time off.&lt;br /&gt;I worked there for about four years and then finally made the decision to leave. The only reason I left was because I was working a lot of nights and weekends and it was getting too hard on me being away from Riley. I felt terribly guilty that he would go to school all day and then daycare at night. So I left and pursued other avenues that until recently made me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;My new position with them is a server/management position, but it is a little bit different than what I was doing before. It is only four days a week, no nights, and no weekends. I will be waiting tables, which I love! I love being able to meet and mingle with the customers, and I've always made good money doing it. In addition I will be supervising the other servers,  doing scheduling, and I will be the contact person for anyone who has complaints, questions, or needs to set up banquets (which we do quite a bit of). The really cool thing is that I will get paid a higher hourly rate to do the extra duties, but I still get tips from waiting. So even though it's only four days a week I will be making more than I was at my previous job. There aren't benefits, but sometimes you can't have it all.&lt;br /&gt;I'm very excited about it all, and it felt so good to be back there. Oh, and one more thing......it isn't very far from my house, so I will be riding to work everyday that I can!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-507022127918385696?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/507022127918385696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=507022127918385696' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/507022127918385696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/507022127918385696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-kindof-new-job.html' title='My (kindof) New Job'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7734537986762347944</id><published>2009-01-18T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T18:18:53.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday Ride With Biker Chick</title><content type='html'>*Disclaimer* If this seems rushed and confused, it's because I had to hurry and get this post up because some dumb bastard already put up a link sending people over here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who read &lt;a href="http://bikerchickzblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Biker Chickz Blog&lt;/a&gt; you probably know that she recently moved to Santa Cruz. What you may or may not know is that she now lives less than an hour from Me, Dave, Willy D. and Carol. &lt;/div&gt;We have all been anxious to meet up and Saturday was finally the day. Becky wanted to check out Dave's shop so she said she would ride down and meet us here and then we could figure out the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPd26TI_iI/AAAAAAAAAXo/sWrToDhMtwk/s1600-h/0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292817922522676770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPd26TI_iI/AAAAAAAAAXo/sWrToDhMtwk/s200/0004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPde8ZRoNI/AAAAAAAAAXY/sQxfw9SMWws/s1600-h/0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292817510768419026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPde8ZRoNI/AAAAAAAAAXY/sQxfw9SMWws/s200/0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292817726652420642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPdrgoCEiI/AAAAAAAAAXg/fyTBFghW2rw/s200/0003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Meeting Becky was like reconnecting with a friend who you haven't seen for awhile. She fit right in with our crazy crew. And for somebody to fit in right away with Dave and Willy D. could be considered a miracle!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had some coffee and talked for a bit before hitting the road for a great ride on a perfect day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We rode through Monterey into Pacific Grove. We stopped at Lover's Point in Pacific Grove and watched the waves hit the rocks. We hung out there until it got too hot (Sorry my snow struck friends). Then we continued along the road right next to the ocean. It was so beautiful! I love the smell of the ocean, and it smelt especially sweet that day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPemC0swRI/AAAAAAAAAYA/FqaYKHjmdjQ/s1600-h/0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292818732264767762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPemC0swRI/AAAAAAAAAYA/FqaYKHjmdjQ/s200/0009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292818549292956882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPebZM0fNI/AAAAAAAAAX4/WfHUT_oMZ2M/s200/0007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPeQPhIkRI/AAAAAAAAAXw/VZChorgMUKE/s1600-h/0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292818357715243282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPeQPhIkRI/AAAAAAAAAXw/VZChorgMUKE/s200/0005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPgBumKiII/AAAAAAAAAYg/ikNn451BjCI/s1600-h/0011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292820307383060610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPgBumKiII/AAAAAAAAAYg/ikNn451BjCI/s200/0011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292819167047530690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPe_Wg_OMI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/I9BHLDbnux4/s200/0016.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPfTHuqKwI/AAAAAAAAAYY/OXJxFHWyk14/s1600-h/0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292819506675723010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPfTHuqKwI/AAAAAAAAAYY/OXJxFHWyk14/s200/0019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPew81kDMI/AAAAAAAAAYI/HlkpOffkoIg/s1600-h/0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292818919636339906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPew81kDMI/AAAAAAAAAYI/HlkpOffkoIg/s200/0013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292819167047530690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPe_Wg_OMI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/I9BHLDbnux4/s200/0016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After riding for a little while longer we stopped for lunch at McDonald's, and then headed back into Salinas to Dave's shop. We visited for a little bit and then decided that we would ride with Becky part of the way back up to Santa Cruz. Well....that was the plan, but Dave kept going all the way to Santa Cruz. I'm not complaining, it was great. I had a new experience on the highway with traffic stopping in front of us.......I didn't freak out too much. When we turned off at Becky's exit she went her way home and we turned around and headed home. I got to ride in the dark for a bit, wh&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPgaWdVFGI/AAAAAAAAAYo/HeGdScuBlDs/s1600-h/0021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292820730400281698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPgaWdVFGI/AAAAAAAAAYo/HeGdScuBlDs/s200/0021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ich of course I loved!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPhCdo79rI/AAAAAAAAAY4/rRKJOjIrIzs/s1600-h/0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292821419522782898" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPhCdo79rI/AAAAAAAAAY4/rRKJOjIrIzs/s200/0024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292821113101827634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPgwoIfPjI/AAAAAAAAAYw/NUy_a6u9oN4/s200/0023.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPiBCC8j-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/wy6BskAiQkI/s1600-h/0034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292822494447439842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPiBCC8j-I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/wy6BskAiQkI/s200/0034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPhUNM074I/AAAAAAAAAZA/BZ4CBMHGT_8/s1600-h/0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292821724347559810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPhUNM074I/AAAAAAAAAZA/BZ4CBMHGT_8/s200/0027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292822095874661042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 112px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPhp1PymrI/AAAAAAAAAZI/wzd4AK7Z9js/s200/0030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was a great day. I enjoyed getting to meet Becky and look forward to more rides together. Also it was the most comfortable I've felt riding overall. It's feeling more natural now and I just enjoy it more and more every time I ride.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and if you're wondering why there aren't any pics of Dave, it's funny, somehow when he gave me the pictures off his camera the ones I took of him were conveniently missing. But I'm sure Becky got some! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7734537986762347944?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7734537986762347944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7734537986762347944' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7734537986762347944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7734537986762347944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/saturday-ride-with-biker-chick.html' title='Saturday Ride With Biker Chick'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SXPd26TI_iI/AAAAAAAAAXo/sWrToDhMtwk/s72-c/0004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6805314786934543651</id><published>2009-01-16T06:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T06:00:00.713-08:00</updated><title type='text'>And Here It Is 76-101</title><content type='html'>76. I love riding at night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;77. I'm not supposed to ride at night with my permit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;78. I don't do it often, or go far, but I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;79. My bike is dirty right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80. I'm going to clean her tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;81. When I see or talk to my ex-husband, I wonder why I ever married him in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;82. But, I'm glad that I did, because I have Riley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;83. I don't regret getting divorced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;84. I do regret giving him back all my jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;85. I can't stand Jenny McCarthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;86. But some people say that I sometimes act like her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;87. And for some reason it bugs me that Dave thinks she's hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;88. I love to color.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;89. Especially in Barbie coloring books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;90. But I never color their hair blond, it's always brown or red, or a funky mixture of colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91. My Grandma collected Barbie dolls, and is handing them all down to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;92. I bought a lot of them for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93. She already sent me some, including the original Ken, in the box, in perfect condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;94. She has the original Barbie, but said she's holding onto that one until she dies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;95. My Gram is 84 and acts like she just turned 21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;96. She is one of my favorite people in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;97. I know it will be hard on me when she dies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;98. But I think she just might outlive us all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;99. This last list is coming to me faster than the previous ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100. Meeting Dave was one of the best things to ever happen to me in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;101. Even after all this stuff I've shared, there are still things that the world will never know about me. (Insert mysterious and sinister laughter here.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6805314786934543651?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6805314786934543651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6805314786934543651' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6805314786934543651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6805314786934543651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/and-here-it-is-76-101.html' title='And Here It Is 76-101'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4686428067344190474</id><published>2009-01-14T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T13:55:08.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things About Me 51-75</title><content type='html'>51. I laugh every time I watch the video of &lt;a href="http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-time.html"&gt;my first ride&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. There was a time I thought I wouldn't make a good mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. Now I think I'm a great mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. I used to sell Mary Kay cosmetics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. I wasn't very good at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56. I was stood up for my Senior Prom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;57. 17 years later and I'm still bitter about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;58. My favorite ice cream is Jamocia Almond Fudge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;59. I have two tattoos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;60. I would like to add on to one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;61. I had almost no discipline growing up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;62. I don't think I would've got in so much trouble if I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;63. I got an email from an old boss asking if I want to come back to work at her restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;64. I think I'm going to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65. I loved working there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;66. I really want to go to Sturgis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;67. I'm not sure if it will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;68. I hope someday I can have a real relationship with Dave's children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;69. I wish my little brother would stop having kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;70. He just turned 27 and he has 5 (two aren't biological).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71. Sometimes I have a hard time helping Riley with his 4th grade math.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;72. I'm not dumb, they just don't do anything the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;73. Some of the stuff he's learning, I didn't learn until my college math classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74. I got a fake ID when I was 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;75. I used it to go EVERYWHERE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4686428067344190474?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4686428067344190474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4686428067344190474' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4686428067344190474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4686428067344190474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-about-me-51-75.html' title='Things About Me 51-75'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-372302342687359787</id><published>2009-01-12T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T17:03:57.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Things You Don't Know About Me 26-50</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;26. I'm afraid of the dark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;27. I don't like to shop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;28. I don't like to cook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;29. I love brussel sprouts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;30. I don't like seafood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;31. I could live on pasta, three meals a day, 365 days a year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;32. I gained 50 pounds when I was pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;33. It took me three years and a divorce to lose all that weight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;34. I want to cut my hair short again, but Dave hates it when it's short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;35. I care enough about what Dave thinks to not just do it anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;36. I love video and computer games.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;37. I'm totally addicted to The Sims computer game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;38. I never wanted to go to college until I turned 30.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;39. After my first day of college I cried all the way home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;40. My maternal grandmother died of lung and brain cancer.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;41. My paternal grandfather died of emphysema.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;42. Neither of those things have given me motivation to quit smoking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;43. Febreeze makes me break out in hives.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;44. I got chicken pox twice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;45. I still have my tonsills.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;46. I snore like a man. (at least that's what I'm told.) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;47. After I had my son I had a catheter for over a month because I couldn't pee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;48. In junior high I kissed a boy that my best friend liked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;49. I can be a big dork.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;50. I can be an even bigger bitch. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-372302342687359787?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/372302342687359787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=372302342687359787' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/372302342687359787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/372302342687359787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-you-dont-know-about-me-26-50.html' title='Things You Don&apos;t Know About Me 26-50'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4939685726352867068</id><published>2009-01-09T13:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T13:31:51.732-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call me a copycat!</title><content type='html'>Okay, so this isn't my original idea, but I thought it was fun. &lt;a href="http://asimplegirlincali.blogspot.com/"&gt;Connie&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://annnelson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Ann &lt;/a&gt;both have posts up about 101 Things you don't know about them. So hopefully they won't mind, but I'm jumping on the bandwagon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my 1-25:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Every time I get a headache I'm sure that I have a brain aneurysm and I'm dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I'm a beauty school dropout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I believe in fairytale endings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Everyone in my family calls me "Boo Boo".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  My favorite color is green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  When my son was a baby I actually liked picking the buggers out of his nose. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  My first car was a black 69 Volkswagen bug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  I once killed my bosses cat by accidentally fumigating the house while the cat was in it.  :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  I've been engaged three times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  I've been married once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  I got married in a hotel chapel in Reno.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.  I've been arrested twice.  (I was young.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.  I've never gotten a speeding ticket, or been pulled over for speeding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.  I moved out on my own when I was 17.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.  When I was 18 I moved from Utah to New York to be a nanny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.  I have extreme road rage, but only when in my car, not on the bike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.  I teach Sunday School at my church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.  I am a reality show addict.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.  When I was in third grade I told my best friend that I was adopted, she believed me until we were 13.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.  I really had wished at the time that it was true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.  I trained for a marathon, but ended up not participating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  I always wished that I had blue eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.  In high school I used to wear my pants so tight that I would have to lie down on the bed and use a hanger to zip them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.  My hair was so big in 9th grade that it didn't fit in my school picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.  I love Shirley Temple, the person, not the drink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4939685726352867068?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4939685726352867068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4939685726352867068' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4939685726352867068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4939685726352867068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-call-me-copycat.html' title='Just call me a copycat!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-334073005796613857</id><published>2009-01-08T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-08T12:09:35.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where does the time go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;To say that I've been busy the last few weeks would be a lie, preoccupied would be a better word for it.  My job was getting completely unbearable, when you come home from work everyday crying, you know it's time for a change.  So I quit my job.  I had a couple of things loosely lined up, both of which fell through. So the last few weeks I've been enjoying some time off and spending time with Riley before he went back to school. Now, it's time to really start looking for work. This is a horrible time to be looking for a job as I'm sure everyone knows, but I've always managed to make it work, so I'm hopeful that something will come through. I saw a sign at McDonald's, they're hiring, so if all else fails I'll just go sling some burgers for awhile, I'm not above all that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I got out to ride a bit today, it felt so good, it's been a couple of weeks. I need to get out more, and that is going to be my priority, well, right under finding a job.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Some good news.....after reading Dean's post &lt;a href="http://eternalbiker.blogspot.com/"&gt;"Calling All Women Riders" &lt;/a&gt; I decided to check out the website that he provided for &lt;a href="http://www.divacustoms.com/"&gt;Diva Customs. &lt;/a&gt;  Tami Walker, the owner of Diva Customs, is writing a book and looking for short paragraphs from women about why they ride.  I decided to send her an email, it's hard to put into a paragraph the reasons why I decided to ride my own, but I did my best.  After I sent the email I didn't expect much, as I was sure there would be more compelling stories than mine. The very next day I received an email from Tami. I was impressed that the email came so quickly, but mostly because it wasn't some generic email, it was a personal email with a nice experience from her own life that I could relate to. Tami said she will definitely use my story in her book, which she expects to be out in the spring. I'm very excited. I look forward to reading her book, not just because I'm going to be in it, but because I love hearing experiences from all riders, especially women. Also because, after finding out more about Tami and her business, I think she is a pretty amazing woman. She is a woman who definitely went after what she believed in, and she's making it work. We can all learn lessons from people like her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I hope all of you are well, and I'm going to try now to go and get caught up on every one's blogs. I have been neglectful of my reading and feel like I'm out of the loop. I'm sure I have some good reading to look forward to so, until next time......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-334073005796613857?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/334073005796613857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=334073005796613857' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/334073005796613857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/334073005796613857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2009/01/where-does-time-go.html' title='Where does the time go?'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7504008025494729164</id><published>2008-12-24T07:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T07:36:03.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MERRY CHRISTMAS</title><content type='html'>Merry Christmas!  That's all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7504008025494729164?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7504008025494729164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7504008025494729164' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7504008025494729164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7504008025494729164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='MERRY CHRISTMAS'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2245367443496094791</id><published>2008-12-20T07:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T08:11:18.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Biker Mice From Mars</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;I know a lot of us are having some Sons Of Anarchy withdrawals, and I imagine it must be worse for those of you who can't even ride right now due to the weather. I found a new show about bikers that might be able to fill the void until the new season of SOA starts and the weather dries up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Check it out:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiRNvsrT9sU"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kiRNvsrT9sU&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2245367443496094791?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2245367443496094791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2245367443496094791' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2245367443496094791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2245367443496094791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/biker-mice-from-mars.html' title='Biker Mice From Mars'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-1203229168993619328</id><published>2008-12-16T19:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T19:19:34.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Snow Angel</title><content type='html'>For those of us who think that riding a motorcycle in the snow is dangerous..............&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280592828853462642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUhvMzdJJnI/AAAAAAAAAXI/XnTeyriEfX8/s200/snow+angle.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-1203229168993619328?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/1203229168993619328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=1203229168993619328' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1203229168993619328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/1203229168993619328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/snow-fairy.html' title='A Snow Angel'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUhvMzdJJnI/AAAAAAAAAXI/XnTeyriEfX8/s72-c/snow+angle.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6652318886103947811</id><published>2008-12-13T12:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T19:25:10.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Christmas Wish List</title><content type='html'>As all of the children in my life have been writing their "wish lists" I've been thinking about what would be on my wish list. First let me start by saying that there are a lot of things I wish for that are priceless and can't be found in stores or on-line, but for this post........it's all material baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B.B.'s Christmas Wish List 2008:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. HIGH FLOW AIR FILTER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SURu6yEtRzI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MH87wkDVkPU/s1600-h/air+filter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279466619338049330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 158px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SURu6yEtRzI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MH87wkDVkPU/s200/air+filter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. EFI CONVERSION KIT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SURxjlm7hZI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/xu9DuuzUeYA/s1600-h/efi.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279469519389820306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 154px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SURxjlm7hZI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/xu9DuuzUeYA/s200/efi.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. CHAPS &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279473676716912610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUR1Vk28r-I/AAAAAAAAAWw/jfJXPZSPgXA/s200/chaps.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. WINTER RIDING JACKET&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279480872237700002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUR74aQyk6I/AAAAAAAAAXA/9B76I2SJZoA/s200/jacket.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUR0IParBPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/aepxzZ4Fl5A/s1600-h/jacket2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279472348111242482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUR0IParBPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/aepxzZ4Fl5A/s200/jacket2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. WINTER RIDING GLOVES&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279475559123324914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 177px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SUR3DJXnD_I/AAAAAAAAAW4/Qz5OBSvP_tg/s200/gloves.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think that's enough for now.  If anybody feels like playing Santa I will email you my address. LOL&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6652318886103947811?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6652318886103947811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6652318886103947811' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6652318886103947811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6652318886103947811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-christmas-wish-list.html' title='My Christmas Wish List'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SURu6yEtRzI/AAAAAAAAAWI/MH87wkDVkPU/s72-c/air+filter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2231315929794817283</id><published>2008-12-09T16:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T17:17:15.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sunset With My Son</title><content type='html'>Last week was an exceptionally crappy one for me. I won't go into the details, because they don't matter, but I knew it was affecting those around me when my son asked me one day if I was having another bad day....shhhh....can you hear it? That was the sound of my heart breaking.&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday I decided enough was enough and rushed to pick Riley up after I got off work. We jumped in the car and I started to drive. Riley kept asking where we were going and I told him to just relax and he would find out soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;I drove us about 20 miles to Moss Landing to the beach just as the sun was about to set. We watched the Sea Lions as they swam and played only a few feet from the shore. We sat on a log and watched the sunset while we had a nice conversation and I apologized for being "grumpy mom". Riley gave me a big hug and told me that I was a great mom. I sat there thinking about how truly blessed I am, and how no matter what happens I need to remember my blessings and live my life so that others, especially my son, can see those blessings as well. &lt;br /&gt;I hadn't really considered posting about this until I read the post "2 CUPS OF COFFEE" over at &lt;a href="http://01mrmotorcycle.blogspot.com"&gt;Mr. Motorcycle&lt;/a&gt;'s blog. It really touched me and made me feel like sharing. &lt;br /&gt;My advice to anyone having a bad day....spend a few minutes with someone you love, there really is no better cure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2231315929794817283?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2231315929794817283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2231315929794817283' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2231315929794817283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2231315929794817283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/sunset-with-my-son.html' title='A Sunset With My Son'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2034332888590590136</id><published>2008-12-01T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T10:43:42.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Main Roads, and Back Roads, and Freeways, OH MY!</title><content type='html'>Saturday started out chilly and windy so I wasn't sure if we would ride much. Dave, as most of you know, will ride no matter what. I, on the other hand, am not sure yet how much wind or cold I can handle, especially since I don't have any really cold weather gear. I don't have chaps, and my gloves and jacket are both pretty lightweight. &lt;br /&gt;By late morning the wind started to die down and the sun was out and warming up. I decided we should get out for a little bit even if it didn't turn into a long ride. We started out at the Harley dealership, as usual. We met Willy D. and Carol there and got our Saturday staple of hot dogs and chips. &lt;br /&gt;We headed out with no destination in mind. Dave was the leader for the day, and lead he did. He led us on some of the crappiest roads I've ever been on, thanks Dave. No, I really mean that, thanks. I need to learn to deal with all kinds of riding situations, and when better to do it than when I am following a great rider, and have one behind me as well. &lt;br /&gt;The first road Dave took us on was nothing but potholes. Dave would point out a big hole in the road, and I would think to myself, "maybe he should just point to a part of the road that isn't destroyed." &lt;br /&gt;When we got to a stop sign I asked if he had ever been on that road before, and he said no. Well at least I know he didn't know what he was getting me into. &lt;br /&gt;Other than that if you asked me where we went that day, I couldn't really be specific. I know we took a lot of roads I have never been on before, some of them were pretty curvy, and I think I did ok. I'm doing better about keeping up, while still staying within my own comfort zone. &lt;br /&gt;We ended up in San Juan Bautista at some point, and it was absolutely beautiful over there, I'm guessing high 70's or maybe even low 80's. We sat around for a little bit and then the boys asked which way I wanted to go home. I opted for the freeway (shhh...don't tell, I'm not supposed to be on the freeway with my permit) At that point it wasn't windy and it was a good time of day, so there wouldn't be too much traffic. The ride on the freeway was great, I feel so much better about my ability to keep up with Dave. I am really starting to figure out exactly how much power my little baby has in her. &lt;br /&gt;Our ride ended like most of the others, at the coffee shop to relax and visit before ending the day. I checked my odometer, 60 miles for the day. Sixty miles of pure enjoyment, sixty miles of variety on new roads. And I noticed, only 51 miles to go until I have put 1,000 miles on my girl since I got her. To some of you that may not seem like a lot, but to me, it will be a milestone. I don't want to start sounding redundant, but it will be 1,000 miles of doing something I never expected to do in my lifetime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2034332888590590136?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2034332888590590136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2034332888590590136' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2034332888590590136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2034332888590590136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/12/main-roads-and-back-roads-and-freeways.html' title='Main Roads, and Back Roads, and Freeways, OH MY!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6796968447402997857</id><published>2008-11-26T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T15:13:38.474-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Thanksgiving Thoughts</title><content type='html'>As I was reading Thanksgiving posts of my fellow bloggers, I was thinking about all that I am thankful for. Of course there are the obvious things, that everyone knows I'm thankful for, but I decided to dig a little deeper and here is what I came up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for all the people who have been placed in my life. This includes the ones who I wouldn't consider 'good'. I'm thankful for the people who have treated me badly, who have stolen from me, cheated on me, beaten me up (figuratively and literally), doubted me, and basically pushed me to the brink. &lt;br /&gt;I am thankful for these people because I have learned so much from them and the experiences I have encountered because of them. I have learned how strong I am, and how I can get by with almost nothing. I have learned that even though I have gone through some horrible stuff at the hands of these people, I came out of it with a better perspective of life and a deeper understanding of myself. I have learned that I could live my life as a victim and be miserable, or I could focus on the good and look forward to the future and be happy and hopeful. I am thankful because if it weren't for the 'bad' people in my life, I may not be able to fully appreciate the wonderful people in my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever you are thankful for today, I hope it is a positive day and you all find joy in the good and the bad. Of course it's easier to be joyful in the good times, but just think, were it not for the bad times, how would you even know when you were in the good times? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thanksgiving everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6796968447402997857?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6796968447402997857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6796968447402997857' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6796968447402997857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6796968447402997857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-thanksgiving-thoughts.html' title='My Thanksgiving Thoughts'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-564711620318119610</id><published>2008-11-21T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T17:18:56.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SOME OF MY FAVORITE READING</title><content type='html'>I know a lot of you already know Big D. and are familiar with what a wonderful writer he is. I wanted to post this so that those of you who have not had the pleasure of reading his work could go and check it out. &lt;br /&gt;Big D. is an awesome author. His imagination and attention to detail will keep the readers on the edge of their seats. There isn't a lot more I can say that will do justice to the amazing stories that this man can write.&lt;br /&gt;All I can suggest is to take a few minutes, grab a cup of coffee, and check him out..........&lt;a href="http://bigdaddynelson.blogspot.com/"&gt;Big Daddy's Idle Thoughts&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like what you read, which I know you will, be sure to leave him a comment and tell him so!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-564711620318119610?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/564711620318119610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=564711620318119610' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/564711620318119610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/564711620318119610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/some-of-my-favorite-reading.html' title='SOME OF MY FAVORITE READING'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7478552723136401541</id><published>2008-11-17T10:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T10:41:45.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My first solo ride</title><content type='html'>Today is a beautiful day! It's about 70 degrees outside with no clouds in the sky. A perfect day for riding. Dave is working at the shop so I decided to take my baby out to come down and see him. This is the first time I've gone out on my own. I was a little bit nervous but it's only a few blocks away and I've ridden over here so many times with Dave that I knew I could do it. &lt;br /&gt;I pulled out of the driveway with a feeling of excitement. As I pulled onto the street and really got going I had a decision to make. I could take the back way through the neighborhoods or I could head out to the main street and cruise all the way downtown. I opted for the main street. It was awesome! What a feeling of accomplishment. Willy D. has been telling me ever since I got my bike that I should take her out for a solo ride, but I didn't feel ready until today. &lt;br /&gt;When I walked into the shop Dave smiled, and then got a proud look on his face when he realized I was wearing my riding gear. I was beaming as I said, "I rode all by myself." I feel like a little kid who just realized they can do something without the help of mom or dad. &lt;br /&gt;Every time I ride I think about how far I've come since the day I first decided I wanted to ride. I remember the first day in the Harley Davidson parking lot and wondering if I was ever going to get my feet off the ground and if I would ever feel comfortable, and wondering if I had done the right thing buying a bike. I still have a long way to go, but I did get my feet off the ground, I do feel comfortable, and there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that I did the right thing getting my bike.&lt;br /&gt;Now only one more decision for the day....do I want to go home, or do I want to see where else the road might take me today?.............................&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7478552723136401541?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7478552723136401541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7478552723136401541' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7478552723136401541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7478552723136401541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-first-solo-ride.html' title='My first solo ride'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3147492831299835656</id><published>2008-11-11T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T12:39:00.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A TRIBUTE TO THE MAN I LOVE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;At the risk of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; my Dave, I have decided today to pay a special tribute to him. It's not a special occasion, no birthdays, or anniversaries, just a day that I wanted to let you all know how I really feel about the man you all know as "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;FLHX&lt;/span&gt; DAVE".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Dave is so many things to me. He is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;soul mate&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;the man of my dreams, and my best friend. He is the one person in this world who knows everything there is to know about me, and yet he still loves and accepts me. He has taught me the meaning of unconditional love. I don't know if I can say that I'm a better person since I met him, but he makes me want to be a better woman. He has taught me so many things about myself. Sometimes I think he is way better to me than I am to him, and I wonder how I ended up as fortunate as I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;He is a wonderful father, not just to his children, but to my son. I know he gets down because he doesn't see his kids as much as he'd like, but he does his best to be in contact with them as much as possible. They may be 500 miles apart, but he is more connected with them than a lot of parents who live in the same house as their children. I respect the fact that he really tries and doesn't just give up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;When we first started hanging out I think people thought that we were an unlikely couple, and that we were probably just a fling. But anyone who wants to see two people who truly love and respect each other can just take a look over here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Our relationship is not perfect, as nothing is. Dave does some really annoying things and since he knows me so well, he can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; push my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;buttons&lt;/span&gt;. And believe me, I know how to push his. But the fact is that I love this man for all that he is. I know who he is, and I don't expect him to change. We bicker quite a bit, mostly in fun. We are both head strong and think we're right most of the time, but when we realize that we'd rather be happy we can usually let it go. I have gone through, and continue to go through, things in my life that can make it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;difficult&lt;/span&gt; to be around me sometimes, but he does what he can to understand, and when he can't he just gives me time and space to work things out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I could go on for days about how much I love Dave, but I think I've gotten my point across. I put together a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;slide show&lt;/span&gt;, and Dave really hates it when I post pictures of him, but hopefully my kind words will soften him and he won't be too mad at me. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I love you very much Dave, I cherish the memories we have made so far, and I look forward to a lifetime of making more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Make sure to click the speaker to hear the music. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-dc.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979420487388&amp;amp;site=widget-dc.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979420487388&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-dc.slide.com/p1/2666130979420487388/bb_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979420487388&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-dc.slide.com/p2/2666130979420487388/bb_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;amp;id=2666130979420487388&amp;amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-dc.slide.com/m/2666130979420487388/bb_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide9_1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=2666130979420487388&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-dc.slide.com/p4/2666130979420487388/bb_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3147492831299835656?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3147492831299835656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3147492831299835656' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3147492831299835656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3147492831299835656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/tribute-to-man-i-love.html' title='A TRIBUTE TO THE MAN I LOVE'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5838332115394351889</id><published>2008-11-09T18:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T12:18:21.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's about friggin' time!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the first time in two weeks that I was able to get my baby out for a ride. It had been one thing or another and I was getting really sick of it!&lt;br /&gt;We woke up in the morning and I was all anticipation and nerves. I was worried that I might have forgotten everything that I had learned about riding. I know two weeks isn't that long, but when you're still a newbie you worry you might have to start from scratch. Thankfully that wasn't the case. When I got going I felt great, I think I was actually feeling more comfortable than the last time I rode. It just felt so good to get out and go.&lt;br /&gt;First stop was the Harley dealership. We met Willy D. and Carol there and got our free hot dogs. Free hot dogs are usually good, but when you eat one the morning after a night of J.D. they don't taste so good. That's all I'll say about that, I'll leave the potty posts for Dave!&lt;br /&gt;While we were there Carol and I signed up for the garage party they are having this week. I am really looking forward to checking it out. I will definitely post about it.&lt;br /&gt;We left the dealership and went to pick Riley up at his friend's house. He had spent the night and I had promised if the weather was nice that we would pick him up on the bikes. Well, the weather wasn't really nice, but it wasn't bad either. Just a little overcast and on the chilly side without being too cold. The friend's house he stayed at also happens to be one of the family's that I work for, and they have been wanting to check out my bike since I got it. After showing off my baby a little bit and gearing up the kid we took off for our little ride.&lt;br /&gt;We took a nice little road that I've been on a lot so it was a nice relaxing ride. It was starting to get windy and cold and I was wondering if it would rain on us. As much as I didn't want it to rain, I thought if it did it would be a first for me and a new experience, but then the more I thought about it I realized there are some things that are probably better not experiencing.&lt;br /&gt;We rode for a little bit and stopped at the coffee shop on the way home. Once we got home and the babies were safely in the garage the clouds let loose and it poured. Yeah, I can do without that experience for now.&lt;br /&gt;All I can say to those of you who are getting ready to put your bikes away for the winter season....My deepest condolences. Two weeks almost killed me, I can't imagine two months without getting out on my girl. Hopefully you all have lots of stuff to keep you busy, and those of us who can ride all year will try to ride enough for you! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5838332115394351889?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5838332115394351889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5838332115394351889' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5838332115394351889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5838332115394351889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-about-friggin-time.html' title='It&apos;s about friggin&apos; time!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4896514570557274467</id><published>2008-10-21T10:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T11:29:43.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm here, but I'm not really here</title><content type='html'>The last few weeks I feel like I have been walking around in a fog. It all started with the stomach flu, or a mild case of food poisoning, not sure really. That lasted for about two days. That joy was immediately followed by the worst case of P.M.S. that I have ever suffered. I was seriously the biggest bitch for days, ask Dave, poor guy just smiled and blew me kisses in fear for his life. I did manage to enjoy my birthday in the middle of it, thanks to my wonderful man who may not always know exactly what to do, but whose trying makes it all okay.&lt;br /&gt;Just when I was starting to get over the bitchies I got a bad cold. Since I don't get paid sick days, and I can't afford not to get paid, I had to work through it. Pretty much every minute I wasn't working I was sleeping. I haven't felt that miserable in a long time. I thought I may have a sinus infection, but it's now clearing up, so I think it was just a cold.&lt;br /&gt;Riley was with going to be with his dad for the weekend and I really wanted to ride, but I still wasn't feeling great Friday night when I went to bed. I woke up Saturday feeling decent, but not 100%. I decided it might be best for me to ride bitch for the day. At least I would get to ride one way or another. But then when I got out of the shower I felt good so I opened up the garage and pulled the girl out to warm her up, she takes awhile to get going. Dave walked out and asked what I was doing, and I told him I needed to ride. We had a great day Saturday, I will post about that later, but then I feel a huge let down after the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;While I was sick I was thinking about my job a lot. I love my job, but I'm seriously considering a career move. My job allows for a lot of freedom and flexibility, but that can also equal instability. I have no benefits of any kind. Thankfully Ry is covered under his dad's insurance, but I have no medical, dental, vision, nothing. I just found out yesterday that a place I used to work is hiring, and I know that they would hire me back. It's totally different from what I'm doing now. It's an office job, Monday through Friday 9-6, totally structured, not much freedom or flexibility. But.... there are benefits. Paid sick time and vacation, medical, dental, vision, 401K.  It's hard to compare the pay because my hours always change with my current job, and I pay self employment taxes and crap, but I think it would be a little bit more than what I'm making now. I just don't know what to do. Sometimes I sit here and think, "When did this become my life?" Don't get me wrong, I love my life, and there are very few things about it that I would change, but sometimes it just seems like I'm watching my life like a movie on a screen and it's going by so fast and I'm not sure if I'm actually living it, or just being dragged along.&lt;br /&gt;Whoa, I'm getting way too deep here. I think I've had way too much down time the last two weeks, not a good thing! Anyways, just wanted to share what's been going on with me, I'm sure you can all relate to some degree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4896514570557274467?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4896514570557274467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4896514570557274467' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4896514570557274467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4896514570557274467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-here-but-im-not-really-here.html' title='I&apos;m here, but I&apos;m not really here'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5991673120185513043</id><published>2008-10-12T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:36:23.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My 18th Birthday! Ha Ha!</title><content type='html'>Thank you all for the Birthday wishes. I'm sure you all know that Dave was kidding when he said it was my 18th, he's such a kidder. No, this was a milestone for me though....21. Yes, now I can finally go check out some of these biker bars I've been hearing about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a great day. It was a pretty low key celebration, but I had everything I needed, my two favorite boys, good friends, and food! The only thing I didn't get to do that I wanted to was ride, but it was just too busy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256490101387481826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLN5aqO0uI/AAAAAAAAATM/t-CJ8qfGZgo/s200/DSC01704.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256491436173964018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLPHHIIMvI/AAAAAAAAATk/-17D4tHogew/s200/DSC01706.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a great dinner with Willy D. and Carol. She was also celebrating her 21st Birthday! Unfortunately we forgot the camera at dinner, I would've loved to share pics of Willy D. in his nice clothes. (Not that leather isn't nice, but you know.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Willy D. and Carol bought me a cute little Teddy Bear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256489895710616850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLNtcdC7RI/AAAAAAAAATE/nSSzu96yVsc/s200/DSC01703.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After dinner we came home and had cake. Dave and Riley made the cake for me, it was so good!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256489556476012818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLNZstNqRI/AAAAAAAAAS0/c3ZvcZYsd4g/s200/DSC01696.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256489731715619778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLNj5hl28I/AAAAAAAAAS8/C_J8trOYLCM/s200/DSC01701.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we watched a movie that I got to rent free from Hollywood Video. I don't know how many of you have Hollywood Video where you are, but if you're a member you get a free rental on your Birthday, cool huh! We got "The Forbidden Kingdom". If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it, it was awesome!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Riley fell asleep right after the movie so Dave and I decided to open up the bottle of wine that my boss had given me. I'm not usually much of a wine drinker, but I'm not going to turn it down if someone gives it to me. It was White Merlot, I'd never even heard of it, but it was pretty good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Only problem was that the wine glasses were too small, so I had to find something better to drink out of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256490244374981602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLOBvVG6-I/AAAAAAAAATU/9zka4ziIBcU/s200/DSC01707.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256490537896526274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLOS0yGQcI/AAAAAAAAATc/SwOpEZzb3Bw/s200/DSC01709.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for the spankings....well a lady doesn't kiss and tell.....hmmm, I don't know really if I'm a lady....ok, well let's just say that the rest of the evening was very good....you can all use your imaginations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks again for the Birthday wishes. Thanks Willy D. and Carol for sharing the day with us. Thanks Riley and Dave for a wonderful cake, and Dave thanks for everything else! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5991673120185513043?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5991673120185513043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5991673120185513043' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5991673120185513043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5991673120185513043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-18th-birthday-ha-ha_12.html' title='My 18th Birthday! Ha Ha!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SPLN5aqO0uI/AAAAAAAAATM/t-CJ8qfGZgo/s72-c/DSC01704.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6061835142793426811</id><published>2008-10-06T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T18:16:40.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thought you might find this interesting</title><content type='html'>I found this on AMA's website and wanted to share it with you all since this has been a hot topic lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AMA urges DOT to accelerate motorcycle crash study&lt;br /&gt;Posted October 6, 2008&lt;br /&gt;AMA President and CEO Rob Dingman called for the U.S. Department of Transportation to accelerate a long-overdue federal study into the causes of motorcycle crashes in a meeting with the agency's head, Secretary Mary Peters, on Friday, October 3. Acting Administrator of the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA) David Kelly, and AMA Vice President of Government Relations Ed Moreland also attended the meeting.&lt;br /&gt;"There are an estimated 10 million motorcyclists on the road today, more than at any time in America's history," said Dingman, who heads the nation's 300,000-member non-profit association. "As a direct result of this growth and increased usage, we are experiencing more crashes, injuries and fatalities. Our meeting with Secretary Peters--a motorcyclist herself--was cordial yet frank. We believe she understands the sense of urgency to get this crash research underway."&lt;br /&gt;According to NHTSA statistics released by Peter's office in September, the number of motorcycle riders or passengers killed on U.S. roads in 2007 increased 6.6 percent over 2006, while the overall number of traffic fatalities fell to the lowest number since 1994.&lt;br /&gt;"Some time ago, Congress and the motorcycling community committed the necessary funds for this study," said Dingman. "For too long, NHTSA has simply focused on a strategy of advocating mandatory helmet use, while doing little to prevent crashes from occurring in the first place. With a new administration set to take office on January 20, we can't afford any more delays while motorcycle crashes, injuries and fatalities continue to mount. The time to begin the study is now."&lt;br /&gt;Dingman stressed that while the AMA strongly supports voluntary helmet use as one element of a comprehensive approach to motorcycle safety, a higher priority must be given by NHTSA to crash prevention, which must include greater emphasis on motorist awareness programs to educate road users about motorcycles.&lt;br /&gt;The crash study is being undertaken by the Oklahoma Transportation Center, an independent and well-respected research facility at Oklahoma State University in Stillwater. The last major motorcycle crash study was completed in 1980, and it provided a wealth of data that has been used to develop training and strategies to help keep riders safer on the road. In the decades since, the traffic environment has changed enormously, prompting the AMA to begin campaigning for a new study several years ago.&lt;br /&gt;"The idea behind the motorcycle crash causation study is to help us understand the causes of crashes so that effective countermeasures can be developed," said Dingman. "Absent this study, countermeasures will continue to be developed in a vacuum, with no way to know which measures will be effective."&lt;br /&gt;In their meeting Friday, Dingman also urged Secretary Peters to reject New York City's request to ban motorcycles from high-occupancy vehicle (HOV) lanes. Federal law stipulates that HOV lanes must allow motorcycles to use the lanes unless proven to pose a safety hazard.&lt;br /&gt;"Secretary Peters was supportive of our desire to end New York City's illegal ticketing of motorcyclists in HOV lanes," said Dingman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6061835142793426811?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6061835142793426811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6061835142793426811' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6061835142793426811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6061835142793426811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/10/thought-you-mind-find-this-interesting.html' title='Thought you might find this interesting'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-5191059354328054378</id><published>2008-10-03T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-03T18:44:15.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>B.B.'s Bike Garage</title><content type='html'>My engine guards finally came in. (One side note, it really bothers me that they are called engine "guards" plural when it's only one piece.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So any way, my engine guard(s) came in and Dave told me he wanted me to put them on myself. It's not that he's a total loser jerk, it's just that he thinks it would be good for me to do as much as I can myself when it comes to my bike. I agree, I think that's the best way to learn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253100214068870114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObC0AUae-I/AAAAAAAAARY/a04T55O3ino/s200/DSC01637.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as I was getting everything that I needed together, a thought occurred to me. Willy D, our prospect needed to do something to prove to me that he was worthy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I immediately grabbed the phone. "Willy D." I said. "Get your ass over here and put my guard(s) on. He was over here before I could even open my beer. Good boy! The prospect did a good job in a timely manner. (With a little bit of my assistance.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253100558792578834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDIEg81xI/AAAAAAAAARg/rDK1Ay4qonQ/s200/DSC01636.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDlFoLWhI/AAAAAAAAARw/PkVnlCZ3fDI/s1600-h/DSC01641.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253101057307531794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDlFoLWhI/AAAAAAAAARw/PkVnlCZ3fDI/s200/DSC01641.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDYw1oNdI/AAAAAAAAARo/TcEOaP0NDtc/s1600-h/DSC01644.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253100845568374226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDYw1oNdI/AAAAAAAAARo/TcEOaP0NDtc/s200/DSC01644.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253101217006595266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObDuYjZrMI/AAAAAAAAAR4/3K1VNp1pNas/s200/DSC01638.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253101605085819122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObEE-QssPI/AAAAAAAAASA/eyU-tg-JqIQ/s200/DSC01647.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think he did that on purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253102583186914290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObE95-K-_I/AAAAAAAAASM/TGsLCz6sU1Y/s200/DSC01648.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After giving him a good piece of my mind, I realized that this was at least a good opportunity to see if the engine guard(s) worked. It was also a good time to practice picking the bike up myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253103306574309986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObFoAzKqmI/AAAAAAAAASU/VuzEaps915E/s200/DSC01649.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObGJckfe0I/AAAAAAAAASk/ayv4qZkJe_4/s1600-h/DSC01651.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253103880964635458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObGJckfe0I/AAAAAAAAASk/ayv4qZkJe_4/s200/DSC01651.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObF8Y17foI/AAAAAAAAASc/g9VF1IS7Fko/s1600-h/DSC01650.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253103656625733250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObF8Y17foI/AAAAAAAAASc/g9VF1IS7Fko/s200/DSC01650.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253104074353525314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObGUs__wkI/AAAAAAAAASs/M0ctnnf46oI/s200/DSC01652.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I did it mostly by myself, with just a little support from Willy D. It wasn't too bad, but I was thinking once again that I'm glad I didn't get a bigger bike. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was a little disappointed about one thing. There's a sticker on my guard(s) that basically says they won't help in a collision with another vehicle. WTF? I thought it was a force field!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-5191059354328054378?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/5191059354328054378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=5191059354328054378' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5191059354328054378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/5191059354328054378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/10/bbs-bike-garage.html' title='B.B.&apos;s Bike Garage'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SObC0AUae-I/AAAAAAAAARY/a04T55O3ino/s72-c/DSC01637.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-269368095889723151</id><published>2008-09-27T20:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T21:13:19.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Riding with the boys</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;This morning we got the bikes out and rode to the coffee shop and then to the Harley dealership. It's exciting for me anytime I get to ride, but these are two places I've already ridden to. I'm not in a hurry to really get out and go crazy, but I do want to expand my horizons just a little bit every time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Dave knows me so well, he already knew what I was thinking. He asked if I wanted to ride for a while before I had to go to work this afternoon. He had an idea where he wanted to go, and asked Bernie and Dale if they wanted to go with us. The thought of riding in a group, even if it was just four bikes, was a little bit intimidating to me. I'm used to riding with Dave, and he knows where I have problems and what he needs to look out for. I would never want to cause anybody else to go down if I were to make some stupid move they weren't prepared for.  I told Dave I wanted to pick the order we rode. I wanted Bernie to lead and then me, Dave behind me, and Dale in the very back. I mean no offense to Dale, but he doesn't have as much experience as Bernie and Dave, and I didn't think it was a good idea to have the two riders with the least experience right next to each other. And the reason I wanted Dave behind me was because like I said before, he knows where I have problems, and where he may need to back off. I felt good with Bernie leading because he is a great rider, but I knew he wouldn't push me to go beyond my ability. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We decided to take a ride down River Road. River Road is kind of a backwoods type road. It has some long straight shots, some mild curves, some small hills, just a few bumps, and usually very little traffic. And I have  a new high speed, 60 mph. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;It was such a nice day and we did see some other bikes out, and guess what? I waved! Yeah! I had already told myself not to expect to be comfortable taking my hand off for quite awhile, but when I saw a bike approach I would assess the situation and if I felt ok and the road was clear ahead I would go for it. It's funny how something as small as a wave can be so exciting. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I felt good about going for this ride. Some of my nervousness is slowly starting to be replaced with just good old fashioned cautiousness and awareness. I am learning more about my bike every time I ride. I'm getting comfortable with how she reacts to certain situations, and how I react to her reactions. LOL. Although I  really can't wait to take the basic riders course. I know it will help me a lot, especially with my maneuvering in parking lots and driveways. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I did notice that I eased up my grip on the throttle, and didn't rev when I was trying to stop. Every time we go out Dave gives me very honest feedback about how I'm doing and what I need to work on. I take his advice seriously and everything that I've done that he's told me to has helped with whatever the problem has been. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I'm getting more confident, but not too confident. I know that I still have a lot to learn and I am still very inexperienced. I'm just so excited that I'm progressing in a forward direction. And I hope that you all aren't getting sick of me spouting off about my accomplishments. I worry that this may be taken as me patting myself on the back, but it is really meant to be an encouragement to any body else who's in the same position, as well as a progress report for myself.   :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Oh, and one more thing...I made it into the driveway without stalling, or dropping her, or ending up on the neighbors grass. Whoo hoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-269368095889723151?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/269368095889723151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=269368095889723151' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/269368095889723151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/269368095889723151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/riding-with-boys.html' title='Riding with the boys'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-3332601462886927013</id><published>2008-09-24T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T18:07:53.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Today's accomplishments!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;1. I rode Miss Patience to the Harley Davidson dealership. It isn't far, but I had to ride on a couple of BIG streets to get there, with traffic and everything. LOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;2. I got up to 5th gear and almost 50 MPH. Previously I had only reached 3rd gear. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;3. I was able to downshift when I needed to without any trouble. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;4. I changed the bulbs in my turn signals. I know it isn't hard, but it's the first semi-mechanical thing I've done myself to my bike.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;5. I rode to one of my jobs. Dave was nice enough to escort me, and then come back when I was done. (He's so awesome!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;6. We rode over to the hospital to see our friends and their beautiful new baby girl. Dave took me through the hospital parking lot, which was far scarier than any road I've been on. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;7. I got a "thumbs up" from an elderly woman who was stopped next to me at a light. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Okay, now, so you don't think I'm just patting myself on the back, I'll tell you the bad stuff. (Well not bad, just things I need to work on.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;1. I have this really bad habit of gripping the throttle very tightly while I am stopping, and/or stopped, so at the same time I'm braking, I'm giving it throttle and revving up the engine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;2. I have some kind of mental block when pulling into the driveway at Dave's house. As you may recall that is where I dropped my bike. Well, today, I pulled in the driveway and then ended up on the neighbors grass. It sounds worse than it was, he uses it like a driveway anyway. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-3332601462886927013?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/3332601462886927013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=3332601462886927013' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3332601462886927013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/3332601462886927013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/todays-accomplishments.html' title='Today&apos;s accomplishments!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6663915052577285499</id><published>2008-09-21T20:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T20:45:00.496-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Saturday Ride</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Last week was a busy week, with that and my broken toe, I didn't ride. Since Riley would be at his dad's house this weekend I was looking forward to getting on Patience and getting out for a little bit of practice. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Well, plans changed, as they sometimes do. We ended up riding with Bernie and Carol over to Seaside. Since Seaside is 20 miles away, and you have to go on the freeway, it looked like I was going to be bitch for the day. (Some might say I'm a bitch every day no matter where I sit.) But it was ok, we had a nice ride over there. I was kicking myself that I didn't have my camera, there were some great photo ops. After we got to Seaside we made several stops just for trivial stuff and then took the long way home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We stopped at the coffee shop to get some coffee. Duh! We were just sitting around talking and Dave asked if I wanted to keep riding (with him) or go and get my bike and practice. I definitely wanted to go practice. Bernie had some work he was doing on one of his bikes so they were going home to do that. He has a windshield that he said would fit on my bike and we could put it on and see if I liked it, so Dave told him we would ride over to his house. What? He lives  five miles away, and I have to ride across busy streets to get there. Hmmm, can I do this?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Dave assured me that I could do it. He told me just to stay calm and relax and I could do it, but could I try to increase my speed this time so we were at least going the speed limit. LOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So we went to get my bike. I started her up and tried to stay calm, telling myself I could do it. As soon as we pulled out of the first street I almost popped a wheelie, oh no. That freaked me out, and I really got nervous. Then Dave turned left, I went to put on my turn signal and hit the horn instead, it startled me. Dave heard the horn and pulled over thinking that I was honking at him. He asked if I was ok, and I said, "No, I don't think I am. I'm just really freaked out." He didn't know about my little stunt so he couldn't figure out why I was so nervous. He gave me a little pep talk, and calmed me down, and then we were off again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I relaxed a little bit and told myself to just take it one stop sign at a time. And guess what? I remembered the clutch every time. I have this little mantra now when I go to stop. It goes, "Clutch and brakes, and downshift, clutch and brakes, and downshift." Hey, it worked. My stopping is getting much better, and I didn't have any problems with the turns this time, even some that were a little bit harder than what I'm used to. I was starting to feel really good. I had a few assholes that got on my ass, but I just kept my cool and kept going. Before I knew it we were at Bernie's house. Yeah! That was the farthest I had been away from home. I felt good. We sat and chatted for a little bit, and Bernie put the windshield on for me and we were on our way again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We decided to stop by and see Wolf before we went home. The ride from Bernie's to Wolf's was even better. I felt totally comfortable, ok, almost totally comfortable. No wheelies, no stalls, just riding. I was keeping up with Dave (for the most part), and I was happy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;While we were at Wolf's, Dave asked if I wanted to try to make it to the coffee shop. Well, it isn't as far as Bernie's and I did that ok. One of the streets we would have to go down is kind of busy, but not too bad. I figured I could handle it. By this point, the nervousness was gone, and I was aware of the other cars and stuff around me, but not paranoid. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SNcTcLMNOUI/AAAAAAAAAQo/ABmRk_XYdRs/s1600-h/first+ride+to+shop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248685265484855618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SNcTcLMNOUI/AAAAAAAAAQo/ABmRk_XYdRs/s200/first+ride+to+shop.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;As soon as we pulled up to the coffee shop, I turned off my bike, and let out a "Whoo hoo!" People were looking at me like I was crazy, they had no idea what an amazing accomplishment this was for me. But I knew. This was so exciting for me. It's a great feeling to know that I just go a little bit further every time. &lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SNcTrOzWvKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/eW96aSxKRpU/s1600-h/Patience.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248685524152401058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SNcTrOzWvKI/AAAAAAAAAQw/eW96aSxKRpU/s200/Patience.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The ride home was good, although I did stall a couple of times, just a reminder not to get too cocky, I am still learning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6663915052577285499?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6663915052577285499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6663915052577285499' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6663915052577285499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6663915052577285499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-saturday-ride.html' title='My Saturday Ride'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SNcTcLMNOUI/AAAAAAAAAQo/ABmRk_XYdRs/s72-c/first+ride+to+shop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-8757648201270941390</id><published>2008-09-17T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-17T13:59:23.661-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baja Cantina</title><content type='html'>This post was meant to go up over a month ago, but somehow with all my excitement I over looked it. This was one of our rides over to Baja Cantina. Sorry, no music, I'm lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 375px" name="flashticker" align="middle" src="http://widget-2f.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2666130979409085487&amp;amp;site=widget-2f.slide.com" wmode="transparent" salign="l" scale="noscale" quality="high"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt; &lt;div style="WIDTH: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979409085487&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-2f.slide.com/p1/2666130979409085487/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979409085487&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-2f.slide.com/p2/2666130979409085487/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2666130979409085487&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-2f.slide.com/p4/2666130979409085487/bb_t001_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-8757648201270941390?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/8757648201270941390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=8757648201270941390' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8757648201270941390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8757648201270941390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/baja-cantina_17.html' title='Baja Cantina'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6545740466434882409</id><published>2008-09-16T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-16T10:07:48.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch! Don't vacuum barefoot!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Last night I got a shot of motivation right before bed and decided to vacuum the living room.  We have this little tray table, like for serving breakfast in bed, Riley uses it for a homework table. It was in the middle of the floor in my way, and I didn't want to turn off the vacuum to move it, so I just kicked it with my bare foot.  Well, the wrong part of my foot, hit the wrong part of the table, and I jammed one of my toes pretty hard.  At first I didn't think anything about it, just hurt like any time you hit your toe. But then I was up most of the night in pain, and this morning I could tell it was broken. I didn't go to the Dr., because for one thing, I don't have insurance, but also I've had broken toes before (I'm kinda a Klutz!) and I know all they can do is tape it up. So, that's what I did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;The first thing I thought was, "I don't think I can ride, I won't be able to shift." But this week is pretty busy so I probably wouldn't have gotten out anyways. And in my experience with my other broken toes, they all healed up pretty quickly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So, anyways, the moral of the story is....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Don't vacuum barefoot. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Or don't be lazy and kick stuff out of the way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt; Or just don't vacuum at all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6545740466434882409?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6545740466434882409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6545740466434882409' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6545740466434882409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6545740466434882409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/ouch-dont-vacuum-barefoot_16.html' title='Ouch! Don&apos;t vacuum barefoot!'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-8305311743484873733</id><published>2008-09-13T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T15:20:28.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the parking lot, into the dump</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;This morning Dave asked if I wanted to ride my bike over to the Harley dealership. I don't think he expected me to say yes, because when I did he said, "Really? Are you sure?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;So we decided that we would ride around the neighborhood for awhile and see how I felt. Dave was a nervous wreck, Riley was a nervous wreck, and to be honest, I was more nervous than I let either of them know. Before today I had only ridden in the parking lot. No traffic to worry about, plenty of room, and speed so low I never had to shift. But, I needed to get out of the parking lot sometime, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;We rode around the neighborhood for about an hour and a half. I was feeling good, except I kept getting a cramp in my left thigh. Dave said that's normal, just part of getting used to the ride. I felt confident in my starting out, stopping, turning, and even the shifting was going pretty good. The only thing that was really bothering me was the other traffic on the road. Since we weren't on any busy streets, there weren't a lot of cars, but enough to make me nervous. I decided that I need more experience before I got out onto the main streets. The best piece of advice I have received since starting this journey is, "Never out ride your ability." I was keeping that in mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I told Dave we should ride the bikes home, and I could get my car and we could all still go over to the dealership to get our Saturday hot dogs. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;I pulled into the driveway okay, but when I went to stop, my brain forgot to communicate with my left hand telling it to pull in the clutch. Well, you all know what happens when you forget to do that. She tried to keep going while I was trying to stop. I could tell we were going over, so I jumped off and tried to control the dump as well as I could. She went down slowly, landed on the mirror, and thankfully it held up. No major damage. There are a couple little scratches on the pipe, but no damage to the engine or the tank. I'm amazed that the mirror didn't break. All I could say was, "Aw shit!" And all Dave could say was, "Clutch baby, always remember the clutch." Then he and Riley both asked if I was ok. I'm ok, just glad it happened in the driveway and not out on the road. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Then I got a demonstration on the proper way to pick up a dropped bike. I thought that the first time this happened to me I would be upset, but I really wasn't. I have heard many stories about people dumping their bikes so I know it isn't just me, I'm just starting out, and I feel good about riding. Even with that little mishap I still feel really good about my ride today. There was one point while we were going down the street that I thought to myself, "Wow, look at me, I'm really riding a motorcycle." I'm proud of myself for taking on this adventure, it's something that I never would have imagined just a couple of years ago. And I have to admit, it felt really good riding by the little boys who were all looking at me like I was a cool chick. I'm not into this to be seen as a cool chick, it's about the ride, but it still felt good. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;After we got my baby settled in, and I got my car, we went over to the dealership and got our lunch. Dave ordered my engine guards, ha ha, that's one way to get them sooner rather than later. LOL. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Ever since I got my bike, I've been thinking about giving her a name, I just couldn't think of anything that would be perfect. Well, I came up with one today....I have decided to name her Patience. She is very forgiving, I can't imagine a better bike to learn on. I am very happy with the choice I made when I decided to buy this bike. I look forward to being able to share many more stories about our adventures together, one baby step at a time. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-8305311743484873733?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/8305311743484873733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=8305311743484873733' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8305311743484873733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/8305311743484873733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/out-of-parking-lot-into-dump.html' title='Out of the parking lot, into the dump'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-2141342942974866252</id><published>2008-09-06T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T10:34:50.331-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wells Fargo can suck my big.......</title><content type='html'>I have to vent. I am extremely pissed off at Wells Fargo Bank. I recently opened an account there because it was convenient. Some of my clients bank there, and if I couldn't get to my credit union, it made it easy to cash their checks. I hardly use the account but for that purpose. A couple of weeks ago, I decided to have my Netflix fees deducted from that checking, rather than putting it on my credit card and paying finance charges on it. I made sure to have enough money to cover the Netflix fees and haven't paid attention to the account since. &lt;br /&gt;Well, last night, for whatever reason, I decided to check my account on-line. Imagine my surprise to see that my account was negative a significant amount. It appears that Netflix charged my account twice. Now, this is not Wells Fargo's fault. However, when the second charge caused my account to go negative, I never received any notification from the bank informing me of this. So in addition to the $35.00 fee for the initial negative balance, I have been charged $5.00 a day for over a week for a "reoccurring negative balance." WTF? &lt;br /&gt;I am pissed. What pisses me off even more, is that I supposedly have on-line alerts from Wells Fargo, and should have been emailed immediately that my account was negative. If that would have happened I could have taken care of the matter, and then dealt with Netflix about the double charge, but now I'm out a bunch of money, almost enough to make my bike payment. Uggghhhhh!&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now that I have vented to all of you, I can go to the bank on Monday, and in my sweetest manner explain the situation and try to get them to reverse some fees. Maybe I'll wear some of that perfume that seemed to help Ann land her job! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-2141342942974866252?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/2141342942974866252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=2141342942974866252' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2141342942974866252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/2141342942974866252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/wells-fargo-can-suck-my-big.html' title='Wells Fargo can suck my big.......'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-4285675901378364234</id><published>2008-09-03T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T08:29:59.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a little update</title><content type='html'>This is going to be short and sweet, but I just wanted to post a little update. I got my motorcycle permit last week. Whoo hoo! &lt;br /&gt;I went online to enroll in the Basic Riders Course, but the one that is closest to us doesn't have any open classes until November...Ugghhh. But then somebody told me just to enroll, then go up there and if someone doesn't show up then I could get it sooner. So I think I will try that. &lt;br /&gt;I got out on the bike a little bit on Monday. I was more nervous than the first time, but I think it's because Riley was there watching me, and I know he would freak if something happened. After awhile I got more comfortable, and I'm feeling pretty good with my turns, after some great advice from my hot motorcycle man! &lt;br /&gt;Anyways, that is pretty much where it's at right now. I will post a better post in a few days, I've just been super busy with all sorts of crap! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-4285675901378364234?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/4285675901378364234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=4285675901378364234' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4285675901378364234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/4285675901378364234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/09/just-little-update.html' title='Just a little update'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-7035764709307312863</id><published>2008-08-25T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T21:55:16.815-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my first ride'/><title type='text'>My first time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Today Dave rode my baby over to the parking lot of Harley Davidson for me. We figured since they were closed today and they have a huge parking lot it would be a great place for me to practice riding. Poor Dave was a nervous wreck! He was white faced and sweating before I even got on the bike. He said, "I think maybe someone else should teach you how to ride. I don't think I can do this." I have never seen him like that before. I almost said never mind. But I couldn't. I am going to take the riders course as soon as I can, but in the meantime I need to get acquainted with my girl. Even if I never got my feet off the ground today, I just needed to do something. Well, I got my feet off the ground. It felt so good. I think I did okay for my first ride. There were a couple of times that could have gotten hairy, but I just remembered Dave telling me never to panic. So I talked to myself (a lot) and stayed as calm as I could, and with the help of my beautiful baby girl, managed to keep the rubber on the road. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;When Dave finally stopped shaking he managed to get some videos and pictures, which he made into a little video for me. I just watched the video and laughed my ass off at myself. You'll notice towards the first part where I am trying to push off on the bike with my foot. Not a good thing, but it looks funny!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Thanks Dave....for the video, for being so wonderful today, and for introducing me to motorcycles and helping me to where I am today! It never would have happened without you!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.dmickelson.com/firstime.swf" loop="false" quality="high" bgcolor="#333333" width="400" height="400" name="Baja Cantina" align="middle" allowScriptAccess="always" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swLiveConnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-7035764709307312863?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/7035764709307312863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=7035764709307312863' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7035764709307312863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/7035764709307312863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-first-time.html' title='My first time'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6375337914020751846.post-6441009319863464619</id><published>2008-08-24T21:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T22:16:10.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unnamed baby girl</title><content type='html'>Here are some pics....I'm sure there will be many more over the next few days! Sorry they aren't very organized. I kind of suck at putting pics up here. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI96_He3LI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/VRnEi3LlJ_c/s1600-h/me.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI96_He3LI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/VRnEi3LlJ_c/s1600-h/me.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238317400169831602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI96_He3LI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/VRnEi3LlJ_c/s200/me.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI92P4ohBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/lrwHHm95Mbc/s1600-h/love.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238317318771606546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI92P4ohBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/lrwHHm95Mbc/s200/love.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI92P4ohBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/lrwHHm95Mbc/s1600-h/love.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI1T7jzg9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/lmdk6DTknPI/s1600-h/883.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9trzRUSI/AAAAAAAAAQA/pMVpdtECKPY/s1600-h/dave+and+sporty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238317171646484770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9trzRUSI/AAAAAAAAAQA/pMVpdtECKPY/s200/dave+and+sporty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238317034012185522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9lrEsk7I/AAAAAAAAAPw/qaJd4_48bXg/s200/dave.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9qEHor9I/AAAAAAAAAP4/v-QAkwumZfA/s1600-h/dave+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238317109454876626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9qEHor9I/AAAAAAAAAP4/v-QAkwumZfA/s200/dave+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI1T7jzg9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/lmdk6DTknPI/s1600-h/883.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238307933106963410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI1T7jzg9I/AAAAAAAAAPY/lmdk6DTknPI/s200/883.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238308415449725778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI1wAbR-1I/AAAAAAAAAPo/Qr-pJznlHsY/s200/my+bike.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI9trzRUSI/AAAAAAAAAQA/pMVpdtECKPY/s1600-h/dave+and+sporty.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6375337914020751846-6441009319863464619?l=bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/feeds/6441009319863464619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6375337914020751846&amp;postID=6441009319863464619' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6441009319863464619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6375337914020751846/posts/default/6441009319863464619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bbsroadtrip.blogspot.com/2008/08/unnamed-baby-girl.html' title='Unnamed baby girl'/><author><name>B.B.</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00598057523770603981</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SbsozvocJCI/AAAAAAAAAaw/t1lssezsbM8/S220/DSC00442.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_iKqeg4BdcsE/SLI96_He3LI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/VRnEi3LlJ_c/s72-c/me.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry></feed>
